Songs of Darkness Under a Musical Veil
by ExodusofDreams
Summary: Alex and Mitchie are successful singers, but live in slavery to the industry they adore. They both want freedom, but may find something more dangerous: friendship. Will secrets of the past, and aspirations of the future create love, or destroy it forever?
1. Chapter 1: Musical Dreams

**Disclaimer: I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place and/or Camp Rock or any characters from the show. Of course, this is a work of fiction. **

**This story is rated M. Due primarily language, and themes in the upcoming chapters. As always check my profile for update status. **

**This is my first romance-drama story so if it may start out slow and little disorganized. The story steps up in intensity quickly as I find/found my element and the plot and characters come together. Please offer review, negative or positive it all helps me as an author in the end! **

**Happy reading!**

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**Chapter 1**

Home is hell. Those three simple words describe Mitchie's life within those walls quite adequately. Due to the problems, that she tries ever so hard to avoid contemplating, she at a young age turns into very independent girl. Instead of letting the notoriously unfair trials of life condemn her to execution, she turns each into a personal challenge, overcoming them one by one. While others take education for granted, she considers it to be vitally important. Maintaining the highest grades, participating in extracurricular activities, anything and everything to ensure she is at the top, intellectually. Perhaps more valuable though, is her realization that social networking, and skills is perhaps just as important as the former. Mitchie isn't a nerd, and never advertises herself as such, despite others attempting to label her as one. Instead she finds a happy middle ground that offers a great circle of accepting peers, and friends.

By no means does this cancel out her struggles when not away from home, but she is able to manage. The smiles are more or less genuine, the laughs are usually not fake, the tears, and anxiety, always real, always hidden. Friends, even those closest to her do not see through the masks, the intense facade.

A particular tall, chestnut haired girl by the name of Caitlyn, becomes the one exception. Caitlyn, through the years emerges as a trusted confidant and sister Mitchie never had. She is also in the elite category of having seen Mitchie at her absolute lowest, a tearful wreck. Instead of shunning, instead of skepticism she embraces the terrified, fragile girl with nothing, but tender respect, and love. She may not be informed as to the specific cause, but she is able to sense and see through the defensive, internal layers that Mitchie has erected. From that moment onward, the two are bound for life.

Throughout everything, Mitchie has always had her music. Notebook upon spiral bound notebook is filled in her neat, albeit, scribbled handwriting. That isn't counting the hundreds of loose pages and scrap paper laying in an organized mess in the back of her closest. Paper may be where she unleashes her thoughts, but the piano, and guitar are where she bears her soul. Some of the most emotionally powerful moments are realized when fingers discover the perfect harmony, or the most amazing chord progression. Tirelessly she works, perfecting her art into something unique. Caitlyn, who has quietly watched from the sidelines for years, after much prodding, and a few attempts at blackmail is ultimately successful in convincing Mitchie to go to a special music camp: Camp Rock.

Camp Rock emerges as the positive flame to contrast with all the negativity Mitchie has been forced to accumulate year, after painful year. For once she does not feel like an outsider. The fact she is surrounded by likeminded people all with the same passion for music that she has is an incredible feeling. Sociable, polite, and with a helpful attitude Mitchie quickly succeeds in making new friends, many becoming quiet close. Caitlyn's tactic to get Mitchie attached to the camp she loves so dearly obviously is a complete success as year after year, with a grin and smile, Mitchie returns. The incredible flexibility, energy and raw talent Mitchie possesses do not go unnoticed.

Mitchie remembers that day very well. The day when all her dreams come true. The day is a blur, a rush of memories that does not fade with the age of time. Once at Camp Rock, everything becomes turned upside-down. Normally studying diligently as a pupil of music, instead she becomes a counselor, along with some of her close friends. Even now she isn't exactly sure how her name escaped into the recording world, but it does. Within two weeks of Camp Rock's conclusion she is offered an exclusive contract.

Her first instinct is to decline. After all, many more people are so much more talented then she. They not having the same chance is utterly unfair. Being sensitive to those around her, Mitchie believes that it is unreasonable for her to be offered an opportunity in the spotlight, when so many other talented people do not. This notion is particularly strong after the various performances at Camp Rock. If any lingering questions exist to fellow campers abilities, they are thoroughly squashed after the resolution of the dispute between Camp Rock, and rival Camp Star.

If it weren't for Caitlyn's gentle coaxing, and perhaps forceful attitude Mitchie may not have gone through with the recording deal. Once more Caitlyn proves to be Mitchie's voice of reason. Her words shatter the internal doubt, and ideas of fairness once, and for all.

"Miss Torres, I'm Chris Jonson" the man standing before her exclaims, shaking her hand and ushering her into an office. "I've been eager to meet you. Let me cut to the point." Politely allowing Mitchie to sit down before continuing. "You have awesome vocal talent. I would be honored to have you represent _Lone Recording_."

Mitche offers a puzzled expression. "Thank you, but… what does that mean… exactly?" Is that implying what she thinks it does…? Noting the look on Mitchie's face Chris chuckles.

"Forgive me. At times I get ahead of myself. What this entails is an exclusive contract. Without all the official legal mumbo-jumbo it effectively says that you would only be represented by this company and this company only." Mitchie nods, that makes sense. "Effective immediately you are to choose between eight and sixteen songs, subject to producer approval, of course, for immediate studio production. Following this, those songs will be released upon a combination of conventional, and digital media, such as, but not limited to CD's, and online download.

"While you may be offered input into such a decision, ultimately the specific marketing decisions will be left to us. I must confess that the specific amount has not been determined yet, but you're portion will be at least ten percent of whatever we net. This increases to fifteen if any auxiliary items, t-shirts, coffee mugs, toys and the like, are offered."

"I can't begin to express what a wonderful offer that you are giving me, but what about live concerts? Will I be able to do that too?" An astonished Mitche asks. Never, in the deepest recesses of her mind does she ever believe this would be happening. She finally has a record deal! If she able to _perform_ too… Excitement and hope begin to bubble, reflecting on her smiling face.

"That, unfortunately is a bit more complicated," replies Chris, who immediately notices the disappointed demeanor. "I'm not saying that isn't possible, but performances require an entirely different approach. You haven't been published before. It would be much easier to wait to see how your music sales fair before booking venues. The more successful the release, the better the terms, venue location, and size." Chris continues, "I'm sure you are able to appreciate those nuisances. I wish I was able to give you a better, more concrete answer then that," regret in his voice.

This is a minor point indeed for Mitchie. Whatever words followed Chris's mouth after simply hinting at the possibility is lost on her. Business is business after all. Mitchie, seeing nothing but a bright, and beautiful future ahead takes the contract, scanning over it before signing on the dotted line, sealing the deal, with a handshake and heartfelt hug.

Caitlyn's advice seldom proves wrong. This is no exception, when Mitchie's first CD goes on sale. Careful, and very deliberate marketing sees more than a million sell in the span of a few weeks. She may not have penetrated into the top lists, but for a rising star, is beyond thrilled. With the incredible success of her debut Mitchie, at long last, is able to sing to live audiences.

What Mitchie does not realize is that _Lone Recording _is in negotiations to be completely bought-out by rival, and substantially larger _Frontier Media. _Not even Chris, her manager is even aware of the high level executive meetings taking place. By the time he, and Mitchie, are informed it is far to late. Not even a month after releasing her first album, the buyout is finalized and Mitchie finds herself with a new company, boss and contract. She also quickly finds that, where Chris is lenient, and genuinely cares about those working for him, her new manager does not. He is concerned only with dollar signs and what it takes to make more of them.

This is a fact that is brought to her attention in a most brutal fashion when she is introduced to her new manager, Mark Gaines.

"Ah. You are Mitchie Torres," it isn't a question, "a pleasure to meet you. Take a seat."

"Thanks." Mitchie does so and immediately notices the differences between Mark and Chris. Chris is considerably more laidback, confident, and takes pride in his work. Mark oozes big business, and strict adherence to policy. The simple difference in him wearing a suite and tie reinforces this notion.

"Now, let me see here," he rifles through a small ream of papers before finding a stapled packet, thumbing through them quickly. "It says here you were acquired through the buyout. Is that correct?"

_Acquired? I feel like I'm being traded on the stock market._ "Yes. I worked for _Lone Recording_ for just under a month."

_Damned kids these days don't know how to treat their betters'. At least the girl is presentable and doesn't look like a slut. That's a start at least. _Mark gives a feral smile "That is 'Yes Sir'. I demand respect. Do you understand?"

"Yes…Sir. Completely sir." Mitchie is taken back by this never does she expect to be treated like this.

"I see you have already recorded a CD," Mitchie nods. "You recently began to sing live?"

"I have sir, but only a few shows. I'd like the opportunity to do so more often. I love it."

"I see." Mark rubs his chin in thought for a moment. "Alright then. I'd like to give you the chance. But… we're going to have to make some changes."

"What kind of changes?" Immediately Mitchie is on edge. The tone of voice seems foreboding.

"Singing along to a jukebox isn't going to help. You're going to get a full band accompaniment." Mitchie smiles widely at this. Not even Chris offered her something like that! Mark acknowledges Mitchie's enthusiasm with a knowing grin. "You're also going to be paired with another performer."

"What do you mean," Mitchie swallows down the hard lump, "by 'paired'."

"People expect bang for their buck these days. No one is going to see some newbie with no name." The words are chosen carefully to ensure maximum impact. They succeed as she gives him a hurt expression. "Sorry kid, that's the way the world works. You may either roll with the punches or get knocked out. You're going to have to suck it up like everyone else." Mark says as he leafs through a few more papers. "Damn, can't find it. Well, in essence you will be a secondary act. Selena Gomez will be the headliner."

Mitchie's eyes widen in surprise, and shocked. Everyone has heard of the vaunted Selena Gomez. She recovers from the shock quickly. "Selena? Really?" She is nearly bouncing off her chair.

"Yes really," Mark ignores her enlightened face and maintains one of stoic blankness. "You will meet her sooner or later. Word of caution, she is a bit erratic and often has a terrible attitude."

"I'm sure we will be able to work it all out," Mitchie, always the optimistic one, replies.

Mark isn't listening to Mitchie, instead he is focused on typed out name on the paper in front of him.

"Hmmm…. Lastly, you're going to have to have a different name. Mitchie is… too plain."

Mitchie stares up at him as if he grew a third head. "What? You can't just take my name away!"

"I'm not taking your name away you silly girl. I'm giving you a stage name. Do you really think Selena is her real name?" Mark says in an increasingly annoyed tone. The first day Alex Russo appeared before him she is transformed into Selena Gomez. The other, real ego, may not as well exist for all Mark cares; that doesn't make money.

"Well…" Why should Mitchie not think that, after all, the moniker fits the other girl perfectly well? At least in her opinion, apparently that is not rated too highly with her new boss.

_Why do I always have to deal with the dumbest of the bunch! Why can't I, for once get someone with half a fucking brain! _"You're stage name is Demi Lovato."

"What kind of name is that? That's horrible! Give me a new one!" Mitchie loudly demands.

Mark shrugs. It required all of thirty seconds for him to devise the designation. The label is some random cross between a sister, and an ex girlfriend that loosely resembles the girl in front of him. "Alright. If you want to play that game, the door is right there," he gestures to it.

"You're firing me? But I'm only said I don't like the name!" She protests.

"Yes, and you're being an obnoxious brat. This is out of my hands and comes from the powers above me," that is a little white lie, but she doesn't need to know it. "Take it or leave it."

The silence is deafening, Mark could already see the gears spinning in Mitchie's head. He has her exactly where he wants.

"Ok… Ok… I'll do it. I'll be Demi Lovato," Mitchie responds sullenly.

Mark smiles greedily. "Excellent! I'm glad you came around. I'd hate to have to fire someone as lovely as you. And so soon!" He pulls out a legal form printed on exquisite, expensive stock. "A simple formality. Basically the same you signed before only with some small print about performances."

Mitchie is thoroughly disturbed by the expression on Mark's face. She feels very similar to the mouse that is being sized up by a cat. Nevertheless, she doesn't allow that to show and merely smiles in return before signing her name on to the contract in front of her quickly, without reading. A contract is a contract is a contract right? They're all the same.

"That about covers everything." Mark stands and offers his hand again. She grasps the paw of a hand, shaking. "You should run along. Selena should be just about done practicing. Go meet her. Fourth door, down the hall on the right."

Mitchie's eyes sparkle with mirth an excitement as she jumps out of her chair, saying a quick "Thank you sir!" before virtually flying towards the appointed door.

The door is plain wood and has no markings or descriptions either carved on to its surface or posted about the frame. Mitchie isn't sure whether she is supposed to knock or simply cautiously enter. She doesn't hear anything from the other side either. That does not aid in her decision on how to enter.

Taking a deep breath she steels herself and with care tries the doorknob. The door silently opens, and with much greater ease then she expects. Stepping inside before closing it again. As soon as she does she is able to see the famed Selena finishing up her set. Selena, and the rest of her band is facing away Mitchie and since there is no pause or interruption in the music, likely does not know they have a visitor.

Mitchie cannot help but stare in awe at the dark haired brunette. The voice, although lacking the sheer vocal range she has, is still extremely capable within the realms of her abilities. She feels herself start to drift off into a trance, her talented mind attaching itself to every perfect note, every perfect word, and harmony.

Abruptly the dream ends when a voice Mitchie doesn't recognize signals the band to stop. Murmurs of gratitude make it to her ears along with the clattering of instruments. Everyone ignores Mitchie and head for the apposing door on the other side. That is all, but Selena. Instead she turns around and spots her bottle of water, swallowing down a sizable portion before noticing Mitchie. Curiously she walks over.

"You sound awesome, Selena!" Mitchie gushes.

Alex looks instantly bored, and frustrated, "Oh god. Another fan girl snuck in… SEC-"

"WAIT, WAIT!" Mitchie cries loudly, waving both hands frantically to stop Selena. "I'm not a fan! Well… I am… but I'm suppose to perform with you." If possible Selena looks even more bored, and drained. "I'm… Demi; Demi Lovato," inside something cringes at the usage of her stage name.

"Selena," she ignores the proffered hand, and instantly introduces herself using what amounts to a pen name. "Spare me. You're going to quickly learn that those mean shit around here." Selena steps around Mitchie, obviously not caring about her new partner.

To say Mitchie is puzzled is an understatement and she cannot help but believe something is terribly wrong, possibly mentally with the other girl. Nonetheless, she speeds up her pace, to keep within talking distance of the other singer.

"What do you mean that they don't mean something?" Mitchie inquires, keeping stride with Selena.

"Just what I said," replies the girl. Stopping she turns back to Mitchie. "Listen. You seem like a good person. You don't want to be seen with me. I'm nothing, but trouble."

"You seem nice to me. How about letting my make up my own mind about you, before you pass judgments," defends Mitchie. This is not at all how she expected introductions to happen. "I'm perfectly capable of doing so myself."

"I never thought you couldn't," Alex sighs and places a comforting hand on Mitchie's shoulder. "Look. You're naïve. Take it from me. The Bastard has it out for me. The further away you stay from me the better off you are." Confusion shows in Mitchie's eyes, and it doesn't go unnoticed. "Before you ask, its your, rather our, boss."

Mitchie thinks that such a statement seems quite harsh, but then again she doesn't know him nearly as well as Selena does. No matter what Selena may say about herself Mitchie still believes that she isn't as horrible as she says she is.

Trying to change tactics Mitchie asks another question. "How long have you been singing?"

"Since I was four. You?" Alex resumes walking and Mitchie follows.

"About the same I guess. Instruments?

"Piano, trying to learn guitar," is the monotonous response. Alex really could careless, and her voice reflects this attitude.

"I'd be happy to teach you," Mitchie says cheerfully, thrilled to find common ground. "I'm pretty good with both."

"No thanks. I work alone," Alex stops in front of a door with her name on it. "Look. I've got to get changed before talking to Mark about my next couple of gigs. Hopefully we can talk more later."

"Yeah, ok. No problem. Umm… Do I get a room too?" Mitchie wonders.

Alex thinks for a moment. "Wonder around the building a little, they my not have your name plate done yet. Cya 'round," and with that she disappears behind the closed door.

Mitchie isn't quite sure whether to be frustrated, glad, or upset. Lost in her thoughts she starts to wonder and explore. Carefully memorizing rooms, layouts, and hallways. As she does she can't help but wonder how is it possible that the best day of your life is also the most disappointing. Selena is… Selena is an enigma. She still doesn't know Selena's real name.


	2. Chapter 2: Sharp Personalities

**Chapter 2**

Alex is walking down the hall towards the manager's office. Her emotions are running high. The music video is done, and her tour is mere days from ending. She cannot count the number of fans she has met, hands she has shaken, or chests she has hugged. Undying love, gifts, marriage offers, Alex has seen it all. She has grown not only as a person, but also in self-confidence, and assurance. That is why she is so sternly journeying down to see her boss.

Alex Russo, unlike her counterpart Mitchie, has a deep, close family. With her older brother Justin, younger brother Max, she completes the trio. Where Justin is the know-it-all-nerdy brother, and Max is the naïve, rapid-thinking, spur-of-the moment risk taker, Alex is the rebel, prankster, and at times maker of trouble. Despite the innumerable pranks, fights and arguments between the three, all receive nothing but love and affection from each other, and their parents, Jerry and Theresa.

On the surface they may seem like the average urban, American family. This cannot be further from the truth. All of three children are wizards. Or, as in the case with Max, and Alex, were. In order to regulate magic the wizard competition is devised. One person per generation per family is allowed to retain all their powers. If, as in the case of the Russo's, there is more than one child, all three have them until, at the completion of their training, one is decided via the Wizard Competition.

Justin defeats Alex and Max despite their best attempts. While Max takes losing in stride. Alex however, feels the sting significantly more. Angry, ashamed, and frustrated she runs away, working several jobs barely making due before discovering a rare opportunity to sing. Soon thereafter she is recognized for her talent and signed to a label. Some might call her fortunate, or even lucky. Alex isn't so sure. In many ways she considers herself cursed. The most important people in her life she cruelly discards without thought or reason to the consequences. Singing and being away has brutally opened her eyes. She cries, laughs, smiles, and jokes alone, whereas once she with her mother, father, or brothers.

To further complicate the matter is the Russo's, although able to ensure there is always food on the table, are not well off. Just, Alex, and Max always have school supplies, books, toys and the like, even able to go out occasionally with friends to the movies, or ice cream, but money is tight. Their parents' sandwich sub shop simply is not generating the revenue it used too. Alex, fathoming this sends a sizable portion of her salary back to her family. The issue, she quickly discovers is she essentially sells her soul to the devil in the process. More than anything, money, pride, even honor, she wants to make things right again.

That is why she finds herself in front of the dark, polished wood of his door. She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. A quick glance at her watch informs her that she has a minute to spare. Carefully she watches the soft black numbers turn from a nine to an even zero, knuckles rapping on the hard surface a microsecond later.

The door opens widely with Mark Gaines, her manager ushering her inside the beautifully furnished office. "Ms. Russo, please come on in!" He gestures to a luxurious leather chair thoughtfully situated in front of an even more elaborate desk.

"Thank you," replies Alex, she sitting in the offered chair. Immediately she is struck by his appearance. The business suit looks, and she quite correctly surmises, expensive. A perfectly pressed blazer, starched, white dress shirt, pants, shoes, and tie adds to his already formidable look. His ensemble is designed firstly to impress. The second is more much subtle: intimidation. He is dressed to shock and awe. The affect is working. Alex cannot help but feel a little apprehensive, despite the only sign she offering to its existence being a polite, reserved smile.

Mark tears through her facade with great ease. First appearances are everything. Alex is no exception. The minute that she walks through the door he intuitively comprehends this is about business and business alone. When one works in this industry, or rather any that involves managing large numbers of subordinates, certain patterns among people emerge. In Alex's case, she never wears anything that isn't comfortable first, functional second, with style following closely behind. Showing up in business suit with a skirt of acceptable length, black not gray. Furthering this notion is without question the biggest giveaway, the high heels. When does Alex Russo ever don anything that so wonderfully violates all three of her cardinal rules relating to clothing?

The end result is she is being read and interpreted with great ease. Even the quality of the material means something. Alex may have the right notion that price is a factor, what she fails to think through is the implication. Unable to meet his standards she is presenting herself as someone who is in a position of weakness. The sole fact she is in his office, on his turf, in his preferred style means she is out of her element. The lack of quality further suggests either financial instability or lack of real world experience. He suspects this is likely the latter. Alex would have been much better off is she had risked violating unwritten protocol, and disrespect by wearing her street clothes rather than the abomination she currently has selected.

Now situated in his own chair behind the desk he addresses her. "Ms. Russo, a pleasure to see you as always. What may I do for you today?" He smiles warmly while placing his hands on top of the polished wood. Alex is not being fooled by the false sincerity for a minute.

"I appreciate you responding so quickly to my request for a meeting Mr. Gaines," she lays on the charm, smilingly sweetly in return. "My tour is nearly over, and I was hoping for a bit of free time."

"Hmm, let me see." Mark turns to his computer display, tapping a few times on the touch-screen to bring up the scheduling calendar for Ms. Russo. With the conclusion of the tour he doesn't really expect a whole lot, but decides to double check to make sure. "Well, you have a couple of small things here and there, but nothing can't be postponed until later. Starting the day from the tours conclusion you may have the week off to do whatever your heart desires."

Alex's willpower is seriously tested as she struggles to maintain her composure. She would love for nothing more than to punch the man in his face. Instead she keeps her facial expressions in check, disallowing her eyes to widen or jaw to drop, a genuine sad frown tracing her features. "You see, I really was-"

_Kids these days and their mall trips. Well, if it keeps the little brat happy. _Mark cuts her off with a dismissive wave. "Alright, alright! I'll throw in twenty-five hundred for spending cash! Go on one of your little shopping sprees." This time, Alex's eyes do widen, a victory for him. At least he knows what she is after.

Unfortunately, he couldn't have been more wrong. Alex tries again, shaking her head in the negative. "You don't understand, I actually-"

_Why do these pop stars think that they own the place these days? Glad I don't have to babysit the snot. _Mark sighs, interrupting once more. "Fine, fine. I'll give you five grand. You can even take the limo and be all glamorous."

_Damnit! Why can't he SHUT UP and listen to me for single fucking minute!_ The agitation on Alex's face only grows. For one not being known for patience she is handling the situation unfathomably well. She may still have a scowl on her face, but that doesn't change the fact her nails are digging small holes into the soft flesh of her palms. "Thanks for the offer, however I really do not want to go shopping."

Mark stares at her amazed. Reserved she may be, even Alex doesn't lack the 'like-it, buy-it, charge-it, to the card' gene. Now the girl doesn't want to go buy things? "I see," cautiously he leans backing the reclining chair, fingers interlaced in careful thought. "What would you like then?"

"Well… I'd like a vacation. I'd love to see my family." An uncomfortable pregnant pause follows. The near-silent overhead ceiling fan, screams in the quiet room. "I want to go home."

"What?" Mark's gaze turns suddenly serious.

Alex wishes she could sink through the floor and disappear. "The tour is done. I want to see my family." The look in Mark's eyes is a clue he has a similar desire, the sternness becoming dark. Clearly he is not pleased in the least.

"Listen to me, and listen well!" Standing he wags a finger accusingly at Alex, "You aren't going anywhere! You may venture out in the city, with escort. That's it."

"An escort? You can't do that! I'm not a child! You can't boss me around!" The floodgates open, and the emotions she has been holding in for so long emerges in a torrent of anger.

Boisterous laughter meets her outcry. "I can't? I can't? YOU telling me I can't?" Alex becomes more inflamed by the moment, "You can't do anything without me. You don't eat! You don't sleep! You don't even breathe without me. The sooner you realize that your entire world is dependent on me the easier this will be," he screams.

That is the final straw; Alex stands, raising her voice too. "I'm not your slave. I'm a human. Fucking. Being." The fact she gives nearly a foot in height to Mark doesn't faze, or weaken her red-hot resolve.

"You are not a human! You are not a slave! You are my employee!" Mark, fully enraged is doing his best not to slap some sense into the recalcitrant girl. "I was even nice enough to find some new talent to bring new life into your pathetic concerts. You should be fucking grateful!"

"You're a bastard! You won't even let me see my family! I haven't seen them for over a fucking year!" Alex screams. "And what the fucking hell happened to common decency? I little notification would have been great!"

Mark has heard this tirade all before, and is becoming weary of the same old banter fast. "I don't give a rats ass about what you think about me." He doesn't give a damn about Alex's family either, but wisely chooses not to mention that minor facet. "You better be thankful of what I have done. I made you, and can destroy you just as easily. I suggest you get that stick out of your ass Princess, or it is back to welfare, and food stamps again." He grins nastily as Alex turns ashen in the face. "That pestilent sub shop, will find itself in foreclosure. Your parents… homeless." He smiles again seeing Alex paling further.

"You wouldn't." Her voice suddenly subdued, obviously the threat registering strongly.

He smiles gleefully, "Oh but I would. You see all it would take is a mere phone call." Sighing for dramatic affect, "I see you've made your choice," a hand going down to the receiver, picking it up. "I'll get you first class tickets home."

Alex panics, grasping his hand tightly, trying to force the phone back on to its cradle. "No! Please, don't! I'll… I'll be good. Don't get them involved." The anger inside is being rapidly shoved on to the back burner. Instead deep regret, and dread try to press themselves forth in the form of soft crystal tears. Alex swallows down the indescribable cacophony of emotions. He won't see her cry.

The look of misery, and despair is exactly what Mark is striving to achieve. Inevitably the two will clash in the future. This is a rather minor skirmish in a larger battle of wits, stamina, and money; a war that Alex is ill equipped to fight. If he has to threaten her family to ensure compliance, so be it. The consequences are not important. After all, Alex is utterly dependant upon him. All she should be doing is making him money, happiness and success is secondary.

He notices Alex taking deep, calming breathes as she refuses to let tears flow. The brave mask is firmly back on her face. Unfortunately, Mark would not be where he is today. She may be acting in accordance with his wishes now, but he is determined to squelch any notion of rebellion once and for all.

After a long threatening moment Mark returns the phone. Alex brightens a little at this motive. "Alright. You're family is safe. I'll leave them be…for now. I think you need to spend some time in the dark room," he beams before pushing the intercom button on his desk.

The fear returning to Alex's brown eyes is almost palpable. The dark room is a terrible, horrible place. She has ventured there on several occasions. Without light, isolation is the only companion. Soundproof, padded walls ensure that no noise external, or internal escapes. The entire concept likely breaks several laws, and qualifies as cruel, and unusual punishment. Alex grasps that this is probably all the more appealing to a heartless bastard like Mark. While she may not have a phobia of the lightless shadows, the stays within are definitely less than desirable. Only he controls the way out, or in, and for how long. From experience she realizes that she is probably looking at an extended stay.

All these thoughts race across her face, a silent message that he, unfortunately is able to decipher. He is able to taste her anguish as pleas, and promises fill his ears. All of them are very enticing. He is almost willing to oblige. Too bad long ago his heart grew devoid, and cold to such annoyances as pity. His joy grows in perfect harmony with that of Alex's anxiety as security arrives. Two large, muscular men grasp each of the teen's arms, half pulling, half guiding her away.

"Remember, you brought this on yourself. You should have decided to go shopping. I'd really hate for you to repeat this lesson again," Mark offers in farewell. Alex, in return gives him the middle finger before disappearing down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3: Who's in The Dark?

**Chapter 3**

The door electronically seals behind with a soft thud. Alex's eyes adjust quickly, almost as fast as she dashes to the corner of the room, throwing herself face down on the mattress. She shoves her head underneath the large, overstuffed pillow as the raw emotions are allowed to emerge. In mere moments soft tears make there way down trembling cheeks, sniffles escalating to sobs, great heaves that wrack her entire body.

"Selena? Sel? Is that you?" Being addressed by her stage name is a dead give away, especially since the voice is definitely female. Coming from the other corner, furthest from the door suggests that like Alex, she too has been imprisoned.

"Oh god. Why don't you just kill me now!" Alex immediately recognizes the voice; it is that new girl, Demi Lovato.

Not knowing or caring whether the other girl has an actual, proper name, both simply refer to each other by their fake monikers. Alex's tears slow for a moment as she attempts to figure out this sudden turn. The two barely know each other and having Mitchie view her in a moment of extreme weakness is not ideal.

"Who the hell else would it be? No one else besides me gets the luxury of this 'special' room." Angry sarcasm laces every word before Alex's attempt to conceal her emotions fails again. Sobs once again filling the silent shadows. "Don't you have something better to do than make my life more miserable than it already is?"

Mitchie ignores the former comments. She rightly deserves them. "Selena, talk to me. What is wrong?"

"Why do you care?" Alex continues to weep. "It's nothing. Leave me alone!"

"Really? That is a lot of nothing to be crying that much?" Mitchie softly replies, trying to sound sincere. She hates to hear others in pain. She may have just met Selena, but she is still a human being. For reasons beyond comprehension it's making Mitchie want to hold her until the sobs go away. As the penetrating sound violates the innermost sanctity of her soul, she decides right then and there to do just that. Selena may despise her later, but it is a price she is willing to pay.

Mitchie, quiet as a mouse, crawls over towards Alex. Between the carpeted floor, and the constant expressions of grief she makes her way over to the anguished girl. With the only illumination being a small, imitation flame bulb designed for restaurant tables, situated above the doorframe, it is almost impossible to see. She is able to make out a huddled form, the head notably vacant. Tenderly Mitchie lies down next to Alex using extremely delicate movements. Somehow in the course of action she eludes touching her. The last thing she wants to do is send Alex screaming.

Now lying down, mere inches away Mitchie assumes the calculated risk, and gently, cautiously, wraps her arms around Alex's shoulders. Immediately feeling Alex stiffen.

"Demi? What the fuck! Have you lost your mind? What are you doing? Get away from me!" A thoroughly alarmed Alex protests.

"Can't you let me be nice? Talk to me. What happened?" Mitchie asks, delicately tightening her grip on Alex.

Alex's body rebels furiously against the indignation of being touched, much less hugged by such an unknown person. Unfortunately the messages never make it to her brain, somewhere along the nervous pathways being lost, and discarded. She has been fighting one battle after another all day long. She does not have the energy to do so again. Subconsciously, her mind registers that the arms holding her are warm, soft, comforting. They provide the same gentle, embrace that her mother does so long ago. Regardless of what her body demands, her heart wins over, and she moves closer to the warmth.

Mitchie is startled by the sudden change she senses, and feels in Alex. Where a minute previously Alex is struggling for freedom, she is now cherishing the contact. Mitchie, feels the soft pitter-patter of tears caress her bare skin, and can't help but wonder what transpired to traumatize the normally stubborn, headstrong girl so horribly. Using one arm she rearranges Alex's pillow, resting her head upon the puffy object so the two are now side-by-side, head-to-head. Alex refuses to look at her face-to-face, and is content to boring holes into the ceiling with her stare.

Since Alex still has not spoken Mitchie tries again. "Talk to me," Alex stays silent, although Mitchie is able, even hear and feel her body trembling, as sobs course through it. Another minute passes. "Selena, please? You're upset talking might help. Give me a chance. If you don't want to ever talk to me again afterwards don't." Secretly Mitchie feels her heart sink at the thought of this, but simply discovering what the trouble is a higher priority.

"My name isn't Selena," Alex whispers. The voice is quiet enough Mitchie isn't sure that she heard correctly.

"What?"

At long last Alex turns her head towards the other girl, their noses an inch apart. "My name isn't Selena. I hate that name. If you have to call me something call me Alex."

"Mitchie, I'm Mitchie." Any reservations Alex has about Mitchie are slowly dying. Intuitively both work out that each lost something important, their names. Mitchie does the instant hers is assigned. Alex, however, is just beginning to discover that no longer using fake, stage references offers some semblance of individuality. At the least it is common ground for both that goes far when making peace, and introductions. Also, being angry with someone is rather difficult when they are letting you openly cry on them. Being polite and nice is an obvious benefit too.

"I always loathed being called Selena." In the dim she can barely see Mitchie's head move in agreement.

Gently Mitchie uses her hand to wipe the flowing rivers off Alex's cheeks. "Why are you crying…?

For a few long seconds Alex isn't sure whether she is going to answer. Patiently Mitchie waits, sobs escaping Alex again as she relives the terrible details of earlier that day.

By the end Mitchie is near tears herself, but she remains strong for her newfound friend. Unlike Alex she does not have family, at least none of consequence. That doesn't mean her heart cannot relate, or sense the hurt Alex is enduring.

"I'm sorry, Mitchie. You aren't stuck up, prude I thought you were," whispers Alex tiredly. She remains teary although she has calmed down considerably, her head comfortably resting on Mitchie's shoulder.

"You aren't the terrible bitch I thought you were either," replies Mitchie, smiling as Alex interlaces their hands together.

"I probably came across all wrong earlier… Can we start off on the right foot this time?" Alex inquires with hope in her voice. She may still have misgivings about Mitchie, but the girl is all right. She deserves a chance, if only for her own sanity.

Mitchie, upon hearing this, hugs Alex reassuringly, "Yeah, I'd like that a lot." After her admission of today's trial and execution, Mitchie now recognizes the two have much more in common than either ever conceives.

Exhausted from the outpouring of emotion Alex is already well on her way to sleep. Mitchie is close behind, after releasing that Alex may be right. The two may be in hell but at least she has Alex a kindred soul, that she is proud to call a friend. Not even Mark can take that away.


	4. Chapter 4: Concert Highs and Lows

**I realize that right now the story is probably a bit Alex heavy, next chapter balances out considerably. I also know I said this chapter would be longer (perhaps if I decide to re-work it at some point it might be) but I decided short, memorable and (hopefully) powerful is better. I doubt my next update is going to come so quickly. Encouragement, and feedback of any kind is always welcome. It might, just might, help me update faster too!  
**

**Bree I wish you had an account so I could respond in a more proper manner. For being the first reviewer, This one is for you.  
**

**Chapter 4**

The pair is able to escape some time later. How much is impossible to tell. Minutes crawl by like hours, and hours into days. When Mitchie opens her eyes she discovers that Alex has wiggled free of her grasp and is gone. The great beam of light entering through the open door explains how Alex performs her disappearing act. Mitchie moves to her feet, stretching out sore limbs. She exits, learning from a wall clock to discover she has about a two hours before having to leave for the next show.

Grabbing a quick bit of food, shower, clothes, plus makeup and hair, everything is a whirlwind. The exhilaration of being able to perform in front of a live audience makes her blood run hot, and her heartbeat fast. The fact she gets to do so with the vaunted Selena Gomez, aka Alex Russo, makes it even better.

Mitchie, up before Alex, zooms through her set and is on cloud nine. The adrenaline, the rush, the pure energy, is exhilarating! The fact she does so with the exception of fog machines, does so without special effects makes the cheering of the audience all the more pleasing. They actually enjoyed her singing! Mitchie, or rather Demi, with a final wave and kiss skips off stage. Waiting for her is a chair and several bottles of water. She takes a seat, opening one of the plastic containers, drinking half as the bands switch.

The crowd starts to go into loud-gear once more as Alex's band start the prelude. Alex herself appears on the side of the stage, just out of view. Mitchie notices that the girl looks preoccupied, and definitely out of sorts. She can't help wonder whether her skin is paler or whether it is makeup or the outrageous lighting that is always present during shows. The distracting, beautiful, sparkling white-crystal dress she is wearing definitely does not help. Mitchie cannot help but stare. Alex looks magnificent. Already hyped up, Mitchie feels her body respond again, flushing with heat as another way of adrenaline is merrily pumped into her system.

Alex on the other hand is feeling considerably less than herself. Normally she would be completely enthralled with the preparation, and vocal exercises. Tonight though, despite all the reassurances from her band mates, the hair stylists and stage manager, she knows her heart is not in the performance. The past days' events make it so much more difficult to stay focused. All she truly wants to do is lie down and cry to sleep.

Not being able to see her family is much harder than she ever anticipated. So many things she recklessly took for granted. More then anything else she misses the reassurances that they all provide. Even Justin, her older, annoying, archrival is likely her biggest supporter. Frequently it is he who bails her out of trouble, time and time again.

Mitchie waves to an unresponsive Alex as she jogs past and into the lights and the smiling faces of thousands of fans. They begin to chant. "Selena, Selena, Selena'. Respectfully she grins, returns the waves, even bending down to touch several of dozens outstretched arms. The song picks up, the bass beginning to boom, and perfectly on time Alex begins to sing. The harmonies and melodies combine into organized chaos, complete in agreement to the shouts, chants, and arm sways of the synchronized lights, smoke, and even pyrotechnics.

The lyrics spill from her lips and as they do the memories return. She remembers when Justin on the electric guitar, she on drums, sings, create the performance of their live. They place their heart and soul on the line. Justin the nerd that he is, spontaneously labeling them as _Alabaster Carnation_ much to her dismay and hilarity. Alex smiles in fond memory, as the cheers grow louder seeing her happy for all the wrong reasons. She nearly chuckles in mid-sentence remembering that Max did ruin the moment by conjuring the entire audience. All of that is irrelevant. In her book it is still a touching, breathtaking moment. Now that she looks back upon it is likely on of the highlights of her life, exemplifying the incredible bond, and power of love between brothers, and sister. Of all the people she misses the most; Justin is at the top of her list. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever suspect that all of them, parents included, would be broken apart like they did; and it is all her fault.

By the time the flashback ends the song is concluded. Alex is standing microphone in hand, sadly smiling, and the fans simply can't get enough. The joy, the passion, the energy is enormous, excitement, love, devotion flow through the arena in powerful waves, pushed by the creation of thousands of simple emotions combining into one huge ebb. One that rises, crests, and breaks, and recedes upon the immovable Alex, like the strongest of rocks against a stormy, pounding sea. Alex remains untouched, unresponsive to all that positive enthusiasm mere feet away.

Having always wanted to go but never having had the chance, Mitchie is floored. Alex has the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand. The words, the beats, everything, is absolutely awe-inspiring. Mitchie, usually never without a notebook or paper and pen in hand suddenly feels herself lost without either. This is the perfect chance to reflect, write be inspired by greatness.

The next song is a perfect follow-up, chosen for maximum emotional impact, and succeeds brilliantly. About the strength of friends, and the power, and potency that emerges from such relationships, only serves to remind Alex of the horrendous separation with her best friend Harper. She has no doubt that by now their friendship is long gone with no emails, or texts, and the barest of phone-calls every quarter year or so. This song is originally dedicated, and about the two, and the loyalty represented therein is not ignored. Alex's heart once more takes a blow, this time viciously. The pain in her chest explodes; bad enough she isn't sure whether the dots in her eyes are from the heat lamps above the stage or internal grief. Her brain decides whatever the cause is does not matter and follows up the pain with the appropriate cascade of downwardly negative emotions.

Alex's voice, still pretty, strong, and steady falters for a few seconds, nothing that goes noticed by the audience, but her band mates share a glance. They know their singer, her vocal strength and have played by her side for too many shows for them to be oblivious. The bass guitarist shares rapid look with the drummer, and keyboarder. Without skipping a beat, or not, sound changes are quickly made to help cover their singer. The lights on Alex's microphone inform her of what they are doing and she responds with a grateful nod, before pelting out the final verse.

Mitchie is not as clueless as the audience. Keenly aware of the subtle nuisances that occur to make a performance possible her watchful eyes catch the glimpses. Ever vigilant ears catch improper flat and sharps, only to be so carefully concealed in the background. As with Alex, all of this is secondary. The much more conscious part of her mind automatically connects the lyrics with Caitlyn. Heartstrings are strongly pinched. She owes so much to that girl. Not just for Camp Rock, or even the recording contract, but something much more primal, essential to every mortal human: companionship, friendship.

Mitchie is all too used to the signs. Alex is losing her roots, her ability to cope. The normally headstrong, emotionally solid girl is losing the psychological war being fought in her mind and body. They converge, collide, and ally into a powerful combination that leaves her struggling to maintain rational thought. How she is able to continue singing is a miracle unto itself. By now every member of the band is worried as Alex looks purposely up into the powerful stage lights. Bright, illuminated heat cruelly sears her eyes, but she takes it in stride, relishing the pain, the quick distraction. Regretfully, her attempt backfires. Instead tears make it down her cheeks. Fog and smoke machines strategically set up around the stage are prematurely activated, casting the entire frontal area in shadowy dance of lights and people.

None of this seems to faze the crowd who simply are awed by the ad hoc dance being created within the gloomy interior of smoke and haze, paired with colored lights. Any normal concert would have concluded by now due to complications on the singer, but this isn't normal. Alex learns long ago that not abiding by iron clad schedules dictated by Mark sometimes makes the Dark Room seem like a sanctuary. She doesn't have the will or want to try to survive something of that magnitude when she is in such a state as she is currently. Alex does what any soldier on the battlefield does; she swallows down the vomit of emotions, and faces her fears head on, even at the risk of complete overwhelming collapse.

She dreads this moment like no other. The final song is written as a tribute to parents and power between child and mother. Alex knows that tears are only the start. Carefully she begins, and almost instantly her voice falters. A quiet song by nature her band mates are only able to watch on, dutifully playing, raising volume and the impact of the notes when they may, but in truth, and everyone their realizes it; this is Alex's show. This song is custom designed, fitted, molded, and scripted for her to sing. There is only one way this may end, and only she can do it.

The song isn't a ballad. The style isn't rock either, or even acoustic, instead it is a soft assortment of the three, that when given powerful, vocals – like Alex's, transpires into a different element all on its' own. There are situations that no matter how many countless times a song is practiced and played that it just _sounds_ different. There is more _emotion_ and _feeling_ behind the delicate melodies, and something is simply jaw dropping about the lyrics being song so diligently.

Tonight is one such occasion. Alex having no option, no ability to release, unable to battle any further spills all of the torment and frustration into a melting pot of love, devotion, and courage. All of these are attributes taken directly from her parents, her mother in particular. This is homage to the ultimate realization of all these lessons. Tears, no longer matter, they flow down both cheeks freely, light catching and reflecting off the pearl drops because tonight Selena sings truly as Alex and the voice is more powerful then any gun or sword. She is a siren, a seductress; everyone is captivated by the raw intensity, focus, the pure _intent_ of each word. Even those in her band are stunned, struggling to keep pace with the shocking, enigmatic passions being invoked by their amazing singer. Verse after verse, Selena continues to assault the senses and mind with vocal warfare, penetrating deep into the sub primal parts of the human brain, leaving even the most hardened touched, and plenty of faces moist as the singers'. When she is finally done, she disappears back into the mist, racing off stage lest anyone see her present situation. The deafening roars of the crowd to her back.


	5. Chapter 5: Personal Revelations

**I realize I took a bit longer then I expected. This was a really difficult chapter to write. It seemed like after every paragraph I hit major writers block. **

**I did a duel chapter release and updated my other WoWP story Prophecy of a Shattered Identity too. Check it out! As always, if you have ideas for the future let me hear 'em!  
**

**AnnieMJ & mus1c0wnsmys0ul thanks for the encouragement & feedback! This chapter is yours!**

**Chapter 5**

Alex makes a hasty retreat from the concert. With the show still not fully over she doesn't have to worry about running into staff, or fans, or mindless security. Not caring about her appearance she opens the door to the limousine, slamming the door shut, and orders the driver back to her studio prison. She is beyond caring what the bastard Mark is going to do to her at this point. If it means pain and suffering at least it is done by his hands, and not her self-loathing.

Making her way back to her room she changes out of the clingy dress, discarding it on the floor in favor of soft, flannel pajama pants, and an oversized black t-shirt. Much more comfortable she dives into bed, burying her head under the overstuffed pillow. For the first time all night she feels safe, comfortable, warm. Alex embraces the feelings wholeheartedly as she tugs the comforter up more, snuggling into the silky protection it offers.

Thirty minutes after the concert ends Mitchie returns to the studio in search for Alex. She wants to compliment the singer onThe office, practice rooms, gym, and room after room are all vacant. She encounters several of Alex's band mates and they too haven't seen their singer. Concern is etched out across all their faces, and all assume Alex has locked herself in her room again. Apparently that is becoming the new norm for their lead singer. It's a behavior that is frequently causing discord, and malcontent within the close group of friends. Mitchie doesn't quite grasp how or why, but she also hasn't known Alex for even a nominal fraction of time the others have.

Mitchie, still on the lookout for the missing-in-action singer, runs into Mark. Thankfully he catches her before she is able to bring them to the floor in a tangled heap. For once he ignores established protocol (specifics Mitchie is largely still unaware due to her being so new) and doesn't yell, or become angered. He is on a mission to speak to her actually. The meeting is brief as it is eventful, and Mitchie leaves with a key card and room number.

Alex is half asleep before being fully wakened by a creaking noise as the door to her room is opened. A second later the door is closed again. She is able to tell because the latch quietly engages. Somehow the stranger, despite the room being pitch dark is able to navigate the minefield that Alex calls a floor. Clothing, notebooks, pencils, pens, several bags and a myriad assortment of other items litter the ground. Alex, through a combination of luck and memorization is able to step lightly and avoid unpleasant incidents. What Alex doesn't realize is that the quiet footsteps are able to avoid disaster because the lights are on, dimmed. To the semi-conscious, with a head still covered everything is still tranquil, and night.

Apparently the intruder's maneuvering skills lack her own as a loud curse fills the room. Alex identifies the voice as female. Although she is attentive the functional part of her brain is still grasping the idea that it must work. It gathers that the voice is familiar, very familiar, but cannot put a face to the voice. A loud crash and curse fill the air, this time with a hint of pain, and aggravation.

"Damnit Alex! How difficult is it to clean once in a while!"

If Alex were in a more pleasant mood she might have laughed. Whoever it is has discovered her buried skateboard. She is able to tell because of the unmistakable sound the still unbalanced, front left wheel makes. Leaving things on the floor means two things: she always knows where the assorted textiles, and trinkets are, and provides endless hours of free entertainment when someone dares violate the sanctity of her room.

Alex has no intention of leaving the wonderful, comfort offered by the bed and pillow, but apparently the other girl, the girl who has a name and she can't remember, refuses to allow Alex that peace. A hand is gently shaking the curled up mound, somehow the touch penetrating all the layers of blankets in the process. Anyone who knows Alex quickly learns that waking her up is difficult to say the least. Fortunately the newcomer is spared that torture. Nevertheless, that does not mean Alex is in any mood to retreat from under the pillow. Content she is much more happy to pretend be sleeping.

"Alex! Wake up!" The voice says. Then realization hits like a freight train. That new girl Mitchie is in her room!

_Why the hell is she in my room!_ Alex thinks angrily. _She has her own, can't she harass me some other time. I'm not in the FUCKING mood for this shit! _In an instant Alex is fully awake, brain cells functioning, and pissed.

"Please! Common," more shaking follows, "Alex wake up, it's important!"

"Go. Away. Now," comes the muffled response. Mitchie is going to soon learn that being disturbed in such a manner is a great way to die.

"Alex! Stop being stubborn! I need clothes! And a bed!" Mitchie exclaims loudly.

"Get them yourself," Alex replies. "In your room." Isn't that where normal people get their stuff? Why is she asking such stupid questions?

Mitchie frustratingly sighs. "Alex. Why do you think I am here?"

Now the girl has Alex's undivided attention. A dark head turns so that the slimmest portion of her face is visible from under the pillow. "What do you mean?

Mitchie suddenly finds the helm of her dress quite interesting, fingers exploring the smooth textures of fabric, and synthetic plastic. "You… umm… Well…"

"Damnit! Spit it out! I don't have all day to sleep you know!" Alex's frustration is becoming almost palpable.

"This is my room now!" Mitchie blurts out in one loud sentence.

Alex's eyes bulge in their sockets with disbelief. She could not have heard that right. "What?"

Mitchie fidgets uncomfortably, a finger absent mindedly twirling, and curling strands of jet-black hair. "This is my room too." The voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. Alex has to struggle to hear. She assumes she miss-hears her fellow singer and takes her head, resting it on top of the pillow instead of underneath.

"What do you mean this is _your_ room." Alex sternly questions, before deciding she is uncomfortable again and sits upright, crossing her legs.

Mitchie looks carefully at Alex before sitting down daintily on the bed next to her, swallowing hard. Alex notes that she is having a hard time meeting her eyes. "I'm supposed to be sharing this room with you."

"Does this space look like it can accommodate two people?" Alex is fully awake and is becoming wholly enraged.

Mitchie is aware of this and shrinks back. This is the first time she is viewing, or rather encountering Alex's famed anger and attitude. Mitchie does not like resentment, in any form or shape. Particularly when it is directed at her.

"No" Mitchie wants to say yes. The room is considerably larger then the space she has, or rather had, at home. Moving various pieces of furniture would be necessary, but that doesn't negate that two people could easily, and comfortably live together.

"Then what makes you think you can move your shit in here."

"I didn't-"

Alex interrupts, cutting Mitchie off. "That's right you didn't fucking think. Now look where it has gotten us," she cruelly chastises.

Terror and pain mix together in an odd concoction that Mitchie has not experienced for years. The words are so disturbingly familiar. Mitchie cringes, the memory seared into her brain resurfacing despite time's attempt to heal.

"_You never fucking think!" Mitchie's father towers over the cowering ten-year old girl. "Now look where it has gotten you. Get up!"_

_Mitchie scrambles to her feet, rising just in time for a harsh slap to meet the side of her face. Pain lances through her cheek, and jaw as she tumbles back to the ground. _

"_You stupid whore! If I wanted you on the floor I would have put you there myself! Get your lazy, good-for-nothin' ass up!" He shouts, spittle leaving his mouth as a tearful Mitchie, still wobbly from the first strike, slowly gets back to her feet. Not satisfied with her speed he cruelly assists by jerking her upwards by grabbing a fistful of dark hair, using it as leverage. The other hand grasps her jaw tightly forcing her to look up, and into hostile, angry eyes. _

"_Go away. Leave me alone_. _Find your own hell hole to live in_." Alex yells, repeating the same words. So wrapped up in her emotions she isn't able to see Mitchie is crestfallen, close to tears.

Mitchie isn't sure what to say. She is almost able to picture the cruel, twisted face that continues to haunt her thoughts. The difference is the kick to the stomach that never comes. Alex's eyes are portals to that terrible, horrible time. They are the same shade, hue, and mimicking the very emotions she so faithfully has tried to conceal. To Mitchie, the fact they met a little over a day ago is irrelevant. The pain in her heart escalates, threatening to overwhelm. As she does in the past she wills her pesky feelings into a dark void where they cannot hurt, or threaten.

_Alex can't truly mean that can she?_ Mitchie contemplates. Alex is supposed to be a friend. The kind spirit she knows from hours before is gone. Mitchie gets that, senses it to her very core. This new Alex is hollow, upset, and most of all scared. To what end Mitchie cannot fathom, but that is without question the case. In the end none of this really matters. She won't let the Bastard from years ago ruin another chance. Gathering her resolve she does the only thing she has control over, her decision. Feeding off the emotions, she steels herself for the coming battle, before uttering the one word Alex refuses to comprehend, or allow.

"No." The voice is eerily calm, and quiet, the impact far more profound then the previous shouts.

"No?" Alex repeats, "No isn't an option. There-"

"Alex, listen to me! This isn't my doing." Mitchie defends exasperatingly. "I wasn't given any choice. I could either room with you or sleep… somewhere else," her voice trails off, eyes glancing nervously to the right. The other option is too horrible to contemplate.

Alex is not dumb and notes the worried look. Intent on learning every detail she burrows into the uncomfortable silence with drill-like efficiency. She rightly assumes that the girl will not be forthcoming. Therefore she is going to have to extract the truth in a more dramatic, and likely traumatizing way, too bad for Mitchie.

"Then go sleep there. That way you get your room and I get my space and peace, and quiet!" Alex exclaims all in one upset breath. After the hell called a concert she wants nothing more then to make like an ostrich, bury her head under her pillow, in the warmth and darkness, willing the agonizing, destructive world to go away.

"Is that what you really want Alex?" Mitchie softly wonders. Could Alex really be that cold-hearted?

"Does it look like I'm unsure?" Alex exclaims, catching and rejecting Mitchie's tender gaze.

Mitchie nods as she finds her answer; yes. "I'll leave you alone then." She starts to stand. Back on her feet she makes for the door, head hanging in disappointment. Fear too, but she refuses to give Alex the pleasure in seeing that.

Alex detects the sadness coming from Mitchie. Hidden within those waves is something else she can't quite determine.

About to leave Mitchie turns her head to at Alex. "I'll see you later, come by the Dark Room when you get a chance."

The doorknob begins turn, when Alex calls out. "WAIT! Mitchie!" What she just heard can't be right. "The Dark Room," a pause, "really?"

Mitchie is halfway through the door before she turns to face the bed once again. Nodding as another disturbing memory surfaces.

"Yes." Mitchie wipes away the hot tear that escapes. She refuses to go back into the lightless shadows again. She isn't afraid of the dark. Never has been. None of this, however, counters the childhood experiences of being locked in a closet, in total complete black for hours on end. The door is steel, impossible to bend or break despite the innumerable attempts to break free. With her mother frequently absent, her only solace is to hope that he allows her freedom soon. When minutes dissolve into hours, the mind devoid of distractions is helpless, and the greatest enemy becomes internal. With vision reduced, all the other senses become amplified. The most mundane, and harmless sensations transform into hideous ogres, and monsters. A soft brush of fabric is turned into a rat. An unexpected sound emerges as a banshees wail.

The first trip to the Dark Room isn't so bad. There is much truth in the statement ignorance is bliss. Mitchie, having no concept of the punishment, does not panic as much as she would have otherwise. Alex arriving less then a minute after she does improves the situation considerably too. Now however, none of those alleviating factors are present. The situation she is threatened with is utterly, completely, different. Even if a small light does exist too many fears, too many memories live within the gloom for Mitchie to even figure out the briefest of moments within alone.

Despite Mitchie's attempt to prevent Alex from seeing the tear, Alex's vigilant eyes do not miss the crystalline drops. Instantly her heart aches. She may want peace, but the price is too high. No one, including Mitchie is worthy of inhabiting the Dark Room. Alex may hate Mark, but she isn't nearly as heartless. That is a vow she makes months previously. No matter the cruelty, despite all the suffering, she will never, ever reciprocate in the same manner. This might be Hell, but she won't participate in providing the same accommodations' to another human being. The choice is obvious, and for reasons beyond understanding, she is content in what she is about to do.

Mitchie is so focused on her memories she doesn't realize Alex has left the bed until the door clicks closed, a soft hand not her own brushing against a damp cheek, and Mitchie weakly smiles.

"Common, lets find you something to change into." Alex says before grabbing Mitchie's hand, dragging the startled, and thoroughly surprised girl along. The two, or rather Mitchie, jumps and dodges the maze Alex has created on the floor as the pair journey to Alex's bureau. A great feat considering Alex is barefoot and lacks any sort of protective footwear.

Before Mitchie is even able to contemplate what is going on Alex is literally tossing clothes on to her. A white t-shirt with some sort of text written across the front, sky blue pajama pants and sweat shirt all find their way into a mystified Mitchie's arms.

"Alex? What are you doing?" Mitchie is entirely clueless. The change in Alex is like night and day. IS she still angry? What is going on here?

Alex locks eyes with Mitchie, face strangely serene. "You said you needed clothes right?"

"Yeah." Mitchie says looking at the small pile she is holding then back up at Alex with a puzzled expression.

"Well there you go." Alex grins. "You can either change in here or the bathroom. Whichever you are more comfortable with.

"Thanks Alex." Mitchie is almost beaming with happiness. The dread filling the pit of her stomach is gone, although the heavy longing in her soul mysteriously still remains. That is when a thought comes to mind. "Umm Alex? Where am I supposed to sleep?"

Alex doesn't have a good answer for that. Initially she has a spare, rollout bed, but after going unused for so long. Mark decides the piece of furniture is no longer necessary. The same is true for her sleeping bag too. There aren't enough blankets and comforters to make a sleeping spot on the floor and to stay warm as well. Guess that means only one thing.

Alex swallows; there is no other choice. "You may think this is weird. So please tell me if my idea is, and we can try to think of another solution. Mitchie looks at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "You mind sharing a bed?"

Mitchie shakes her head adamantly in agreement. Internally though, she isn't so sure. She has not done anything such as having a sleeping partner since Camp Rock. And that occurs because of a stupid prank that causes her bed to become soaked in a sticky combination of maple syrup and whipped cream. Fortunately, her eternal friend Caitlyn comes to her rescue, and offers to share her bed. The arrangement is wonderful. Since the pair are counselors the beds aren't like the others, they are actually decently sized. Alexs' while not looking uncomfortable isn't the largest either; the pair will definitely be cozy.

"Get back into bed. I'll get changed and join you in a minute." Mitchie says before making her way to the bathroom.

Alex replies something that Mitchie only partially hears; the bathroom door closes before the entire sentence makes it to her ears. Mitchie rids herself of the now uncomfortable dress for the coziness that is sleepwear. Using a small bag of personal items she brushes her teeth and hair, removes the makeup, before carefully she folding the dress. Quietly she opens the door. Apparently Alex turned off the large overheads. Save for the flickering, electric candlelight, the room is cast in a quiet orange-yellow glow. This makes finding something to hang the garment on difficult. Finding nothing she places it on top of basket that strangely has a vacant top. The dress will still be in one piece until morning.

Feeling much more human, and warm Mitchie treads lightly back to the bed finding Alex already asleep. Mitchie can't help but smile. Alex already has claimed a sizable portion of the available bed space. Despite being mostly curled on her side into a ball-like form she has apparently decided the middle region is best, head back underneath a pillow. With utmost care Mitchie pulls back the comforters and sheet, climbing in beside Alex.

Unlike Alex, sleep does not come easily for Mitchie. She remains awake lying on her back, head on the second pillow staring up at the ceiling. So many thoughts enter and exit her mind. So much has happened in the last few days, it is comparable to a tornado having entered her life, and when the storm is over, everything is different. She has a singing career. A job she has strived, dreamt about for so many years. Why, after accomplishing so much is happiness so challenging to find. Why doesn't she feel so fulfilled? Even Camp Rock has more bearing than the trials she has endured thus far. Upon reflection she internally fathoms that that isn't entirely true. The impact at Camp Rock is inherently more _positive_. No matter what Mitchie, even through the worst catastrophes of her life she has had her mother, and friends, Caitlyn especially. What does she have now? The stage? Lights? An audience? Psychotic boss? Is all of this the price for a dream?

Than there is Alex, the biggest mystery of them all. Normally Mitchie is able to read, and judge people with a glance, but Alex is an exception. Mitchie isn't sure whether her co-star even likes her. Alex has already demonstrated that she may be stubborn, hot-tempered, and fiercely protective of her own interests. What does that leave for Mitchie? Is she a shadow; an echo in the spotlight, always second to the glamorous Selena Gomez?

Obviously Mark isn't going to be one to answer that question. His only motivation is governed by dollar signs. That is abundantly clear the first time Mitche meets the man. In so many ways everything she has strived to become, hoped to achieve, obstacles that have been overcome, he is the anti-thesis. The same diabolic qualities, the lack of passion, the inability to cherish uniqueness, the deficiency of common respect, the total complete irrelevance, and contempt shown towards those that look up, rely, and depend on his careful decisions are mirror images with a home she has grown to despise.

Alex seems to have an entirely varied opinion of Mitchie. She rolls over in her sleep, and what feels like an arm brushes against Mitchie. The pillow too shifts with Alex's movements, half coming to rest on Mitchie's shoulder. Alex's head follows, staying under the cloud-like object. Mitchie is startled to feel something silky, and affectionate cuddle close. Where eyes cannot tell the story nerves along her arm, and side do. Alex has entirely readjusted her position, and is happily snuggling her face as close into the comfort, and warmth that is Mitchie's sweatshirt clad shoulder. Thin tendrils of long hair tease, and tantalize the exposed skin making up Mitchie's hand. She cannot resist gently running a finger, or two through the stray strands. Alex doesn't seem to mind either; she only tries to move nearer.

Initially Mitchie isn't sure what to make of the full situation. Alex, sleeping or not isn't acting liking her normal self. She isn't sure whether she should be alarmed by the change or thrilled by it. Somewhere an old adage comes to mind. True feelings, heart and soul are bared when we sleep. Alex, peacefully pressed against a virtual stranger doesn't seem to have any second thoughts, or notions. The idea gives Mitchie pause. And it is in that moment that everything, absolutely everything turns from murky confusion, to crystal clear rational thought.

For the first time in days, Mitchie feels tranquility. The longing, deep ache, and worry within her heart is sated, dissolved and not present. Content, and reassured about her place, and choices in life Mitchie closes her eyes, wrapping an arm around Alex before joining her in quiet slumber.


	6. Chapter 6: Nightmares of Heart

**Another difficult chapter to write. Plus, I was sick which made writing interesting. Please, if you like my work review or send me a PM.  
**

**Chapter 6**

_The walk along the railroad tracks is tranquil. The sun is beginning rise, ascending into the clear blue sky. The temperature is mild with a gentle breeze that rustles the tree leaves. With what is going to be a perfect day ahead Mitchie is free to reflect and think. Everything is surreal, and her heart sings from the experience._

_Mitchie's mother having left very early for work, and her father out who-knows-where she ventures off to one of her favorite places, the city park. She is wearing comfortable jeans, a t-shirt, and grey hoodie that currently embrace her head. A large black guitar case is slung over one shoulder. The instrument is carefully packed away inside as she makes the half-mile trek._

_When she arrives the park is lonely, the morning is just starting. Few people are out and moving despite the weather being peaceful, and the sun moving higher into the sky. Mitchie finds her favorite spot, a corner section of cement wall adjacent to the brick sidewalk. A tall lamppost stands at the junction too making it a wonderful device to lean against. Soft green grass, and neighboring trees complete the picturesque scene. However, the most important part is that plenty of people pass by, and it is an amazing spot for playing her guitar. Mitchie takes out the small notebook always stuck along side her guitar, and begins to write. Until the crowds build, everything becomes an inspiration, the birds, the sky, the squirrels, the nearby pond and ducks. By the time the park is suitably filled she has several pages filled in neat, scribbled handwriting. _

_The flurry of emotions gathered in the previous hour explodes forth in a rush of notes, and harmonies as the guitar is freed from its black prison. Skilled fingers strum, and pluck in perfect unity, echoing the happiness she is feeling. The sounds carry, and fill the area with a brightness that coincides flawlessly with the environment. Mitchie bears her soul through the strings of the instrument. The richness of life, the pleasures of the day is amply demonstrated in a show that has many admirers. The number only increases when the guitar gets a partner, her voice adding an incomparable depth. While influential separate, the joined pair, instrument and girl combine to emerge as undeniably powerful entities. Cumulatively the audience is swayed, enchanted by the raven-haired girl, a mere mortal with a guitar and voice that mimics the abilities of the Gods' in legends._

_Bill after dollar bill and a rather large sum of coins make their way into the proffered plastic container. To Mitchie while the thought is nice money is not her incentive for playing every chance she gets. No, the real reason is the sheer thrill, to see the enjoyment on other's faces. The pure delight brought about by the charm created by talented fingers, and impressively moving voice. For most of the day Mitchie continues a pattern of writing, and performing until the alarm on her watch beeps reminding her that it is time to head home._

_Tentatively the guitar is packed into the case before being hoisted onto Mitchie's back. The plastic container safely tucked away in one of the compartments. Walking back the same way she came is another emotional whirlwind. The euphoria is wearing off as trepidation edges into the corners of her mind. Every step is a race against time. If he ever finds out where she has been… The consequences are too frightful to contemplate. As the pit of her stomach fills with dread the pace increases. Unlike in the morning this is not leisurely, she is walking with a purpose: to beat her father._

_As the house comes into view relief floods her body as she sees that his car isn't in the driveway. Rather then use the door instead she goes to the back. A wrought iron fence, tall tree, and sturdy roof allow Mitchie to easily sneak into the house via the second story window she always leaves unlocked. Stealthily she makes her way into the attic, her room. Hearing the roar of an engine, and the vibration as the garage door goes up makes Mitchie jump. Quickly grabbing her precious guitar and putting it underneath one of the shelves filled with various trinkets, and books. _

_Heavy angry footsteps sound from somewhere beyond, growing louder as they reach the wooden stairs. Mitchie dashes back to her bed, landing stomach first. She grabs a book from the bedside table, flipping it to the bookmarked page just as the cumbersome door swings open. The man she calls a father stomps into the room. Mitchie can tell he came home straight from work. He is still in his business suit._

"_Hi Daddy," Mitchie says pleasantly, briefly looking up from her book. The scowl on his face informs her that whatever happened during the day is likely not going to bode well for her._

"_Where were you today?" He asks while staring down at his daughter. _

"_I was home. Where else would I be?" Mitchie responds, blinking her eyes in question. After all she doesn't have a car, and the nearest mall is over twenty miles away. Of course, that doesn't include all the places she is able to journey on two feet. Rather obviously she doesn't include that tidbit of information._

_The glare seems to become more intense. "Don't lie to me you little snot." Mitchie resists the urge to cower he's truly enraged. She can tell from the way his eyebrows are bunched together. "I'll ask you again. Where. Were. You?"_

"_I was here doing my homework. Here." Mitchie reaches back over to her bedside table again, and pulls out a white plastic keeper. Inside held by metal rings are the organized folders containing her schoolwork. She completed all of it late the previous night._

_He takes the offered binder, and violently tosses it to the side. Mitchie winces as it crashes to the floor, papers spilling everywhere. "Did I ask to see your fucked up work? Quit lying to me little girl!" The half smile, half snarl is an expression she has long learned to fear. Usually it means something devious, and appalling is about to happen. "Hmm… let me see. Did you go to the mall?" A pause. "No… you couldn't do that. You don't have a car, or any whiny friends."_

_Mitchie doesn't comprehend the game he is playing, and merely looks at him offering the most puzzled stare she can muster. Apparently the effort isn't enough as he takes another step further into the room, fingers under his chin as if pondering in thought._

"_Where oh where could my little girl have gone?" The smirk grows, and Mitchie feels her blood begin to turn cold. "Maybe she went to the store... No, that couldn't be right. She doesn't have any money."_

"_Dad, don't be insane I didn'-" The slap that turns her face sideways sends shockwaves through Mitchie. His nose suddenly inches way from hers as he leans down. "You spoiled little slut!" Another strike to the opposite side sends ripples of pain into an already traumatized mind. Mitchie's hand goes up to soothe the tender skin, and likely reddening skin. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"_

"_Stop! What the hell are you taking about?" Anger courses through her veins, pain turning into something tangible she is able to grasp, and return to him in spades. "I didn't do a damn thing!" Mitchie screams._

_He laughs boisterously. "If you really want to know the meaning of pain I suggest you shut that filthy mouth of yours unless you want me to do it for you." From his shirt chest pocket he grabs a small rectangular piece of paper, tossing it into Mitchie's lap. Amazing what a co-worker with a cell phone is capable of accomplishing._

_The paper is glossy, a small three by three inch photograph of Mitchie holding her precious guitar. A smile is on her face as she leans against the lamppost in her favorite spot. The time stamp below proves that every word she has spoken thus far is a lie. With that one piece of evidence Mitchie feels her heart break. Her entire body grows cold, and it takes everything she has to resist crying._

_The truth hurts he knows it too from the way Mitchie pales, and the tremors running through her body. Obviously she can't be trusted. She has long been aware of his dissatisfaction towards any musical devices. How the hell the whore is able to pull the wool over his eyes for so long is beyond him. That is a mistake that is going to be rectified immediately. _

_Mitchie sits up, holding the picture with shaking hands. How in the world did he figure out where she had been? She has been so careful. She didn't leave any clues; she plans days ahead in advance. Everything must be exactly so for her to even consider venturing out without his consent. She is speechless; helpless she looks into the angry storm that comprises her father's eyes, silently pleading._

_The gaze of hopelessness is not lost on him, and he gets an idea. Uncaringly he grabs Mitchie's arm, pulling her off the bed, and on to her feet. "Show me. Now." The voice is one that leaves no room for debate._

"_W-what?" Mitchie mumbles. She could not have heard that right. Her father _hates _music in all forms._

"_Are you fucking deaf too?" Maybe she does need another lesson after all, a sore face being the least of her worries. "Get your fucking guitar, and play."_

_Hesitantly Mitchie goes to the instruments' hiding place. Every so often she sneaks a peak back up at her father, before pulling the black case out. Silently she is thankful that the plastic money jar is already tucked away in a different spot._

Maybe he is going soft. Maybe I will be able to continue playing. _Mitchie thinks as the feeling of dread eases slightly. As she removes the stringed wooden wonder calming, deep warmth spreads through her body. Sitting cross-legged on the floor she positions the guitar on her lap before starting a familiar song. At the appropriate time she begins to sing. The wonderful voice that seduces so many cascading into the room, even the stone cold shit she calls a father isn't immune as he sheds a smile. Reassured she smiles back before finishing her song._

_The grin still lingers on his face as he offers a hand. Mitchie accepts, and she is gently pulled to her feet. "You really wrote that?" Mitchie's smile grows as she nods in proud, wonderment. _

He's actually proud of me! I can't believe it!_ Inside Mitchie's heart sings. She feels like weeping in joy. For so long she has lived under his harsh regime based on strict adherence to rules, and fear. Never does he approve of her interests, her hobbies, her schoolwork, and now he does. It is as if a titanic weight is suddenly removed from her soul. The connection deep within her heart, and mind is much more profound. He _loves_ her. She _isn't _a useless disappointment. She _is_ worthy of being _his_ daughter. The tears are coming back with a vengeance, and this time it is due to complete and utter elation._

"_May I?" He asks extending both hands out for the guitar. Mitchie again nods, eyes glued to his._

"_Of course!" The grin never leaves her face as she is pulled into a tight hug. He holds the guitar in one hand, squeezing her lovingly with the other. Mitchie doesn't notice that the arm around her waist is tightening. Happy she cuddles close, pure joy flowing through her blood stream causing her body to tingle all over._

"_Mitchie?" She hears her father ask through the haze, daring to look up into maddeningly calm eyes. Somehow it perturbs her more; the emotion is an alien expression on his face. "Mitchie, what's the matter?"_

"_I... Dad… It's just…" She isn't able to find her voice; the pounding thoughts in her head are making rational conversation impossible. She has been waiting for so long for this moment._

_He nods. Not that he cares to comprehend the turmoil she is going through. After all this is for her own good, and suddenly the guitar is up in the air, held high over his head. Mitchie's eyes widen in immediate understanding, and tries to disengage from him._

"_You… HOW could YOU be SO FUCKING DUMB!"? He shouts directly into her face, watching in pleasure as the smile deteriorates into sobs, her hands disengaging. "I've told you TIME after fucking TIME not to touch ANYTHING remotely resembling music! IS THAT SO HARD THAT YOU FORGET IT?" Tears are good, but they aren't enough. No, he wants bawling. She has gone too far. The lesson must be irrefutable, enough to completely shatter the willful spirit she seems to be demonstrating. His hand tightens dangerously around the neck of the guitar._

"_DAD NO! OH MY GOD NO!" Mitchie shouts as she catches on. _He wouldn't. God please, PLEASE don't let him. _Terror fills her to the core in a way never imagines or feels before. _

"_You know better then to defy me." He snarls, purposely spitting on her while his other free hand restrains a squirming Mitchie. _

_The tranquility she is offering disappears. Frantically she fights, claws and squirms trying with everything she has to stop the inevitable. He is too tall, his grip too strong, his determination absolute. The crazed, desperate struggles for dominance only reinforce that he is making the correct choice._

"_Dad. I shouldn't have left. Please, don't do this. Take away my TV, my computer, anything. Not my guitar!" She begs, tears flowing like rivers down both cheeks, her fighting getting more frantic as the instrument continues to rise. "Forgive me. Please! I'm sorry! Oh my god I'm so sorry!" Mitchie is sobbing, her nails dig, and scratch tearing skin, doing nothing but irritating him further._

_The casual tone in his voice returns. "Of course this incident is all but forgotten." Despite his arm bleeding he is able to maintain a vice-like grip around Mitchie's waist. "However, that doesn't change you needing to be punished."_

_Mitchie's eyes are wild, shifting from the human threat in front of her and the airborne risk of having her most valuable possession ruined. "Yes! Punish me! I disobeyed you! I'm a horrible daughter! Please! Let me have my guitar! I'm sorry!" Pain blossoms in her side from being held so tightly, but the sensation only spurs her on. Her determination never wavering in the slightest, regardless of the price her body sustains._

"_I forgive you Mitchie." The unyielding mass of his arm shifts and instead of being against her ribs finds the sensitive spot directly below. Mitchie's breath is caught in her throat, she twisting to relieve the pressure. "I'm doing this for your own good. This will never be spoken of again."_

_Two weeks pass as Mitchie bleeds and sweats to restore the piece of junk she finds lying in a dumpster. She has no concept of how to restore a guitar; she only realizes that something deep inside is driving her to do so. The Internet is no help for an eight year old trying repair a guitar body. That is where he finds her, sitting on the ground, covered in sawdust, fingernails bleeding. Tenderly he lifts the disgruntled girl into a loving embrace before setting her on his knee. The explanations of what she is doing wrong coming forth like an avalanche. The tone is not condescending, or condemning, instead it is filled with promise and hope. Mitchie is a sponge, absorbing every detail to the finest letter. _

_The original body is too damaged to repair, and is entirely replaced by her hands. The wood is sawed, sanded and stained to perfection. A month long project of arduous labor, and that is the part that hits the ground first. Hard tile meets wood in a contest that sees countless hours of dedication ruined in microseconds. Energy cascades upwards, fracturing the bridge before it is thrown completely off. Hand painted by tiny hands the ornate pick guard is a masterpiece absorbing no less then two weeks of fine brush strokes. The two spend hours together as he explains the fundamentals of having a guitar be a reflection of your inner self. _

_The component is a favorite of Mitchie's. It is a wonderful, awe-inspiring tribute to the power of human determination, and endurance. And her hands do it all. All of that effort is rewarded in a cacophony of splinters._

_The fretboard is wonderfully restored, and is completely original. Mitchie against her father's recommendations decides that to utterly replace the instrument is to kill its' phoenix like spirit. A week of strenuous, repetitive work becomes meaningless. The graceful lines, and strings are bent, and twisted, amongst the ruins, fragments of wood, and metal littering the floor._

_The head like the fretboard is original too. Her father, insisting upon being a bit more useful than solely an instruction manual takes it upon himself to make it special, uniquely Mitchie. Beautifully carving between the tuning pegs is her name, surrounded by a heart. _

_Months of work pass, countless clarifications, examples, and_ _her_ _guitar is done. Even more time passes for her to figure out how to play something of marginal quality. From the jaws of death life is breathed into the wooden hybrid, the energy of the new, merging with the robust experience of the old. Mitchie through her playing is able to give the formerly meaningless piece of trash a soul to be seen by all._

_In a single heartbeat, in a single terrifying instant the war for acceptance ends in a nuclear holocaust. Everything Mitchie believes, dreams, hopes may be found within that simple icon. That unpretentious representation of everything that humanity should be. The mushroom cloud of despair rises as the heart breaks, and the name within becomes distorted, warped. _

_Tears come unabated. The floodgates fully open. Mitchie doesn't even remember him leaving or collapsing to her knees. _

_Mitchie doesn't have a clue what changed. This isn't a father. What happened to the man that sang lullabies at night to her when she is three? What happened to the person that would chase away the monsters that live under a six year-olds bed? Once again memories cascade together in a passenger train wreck that has no survivors. All she is able to do is to retreat into the dark void of her soul, but this injustice is the final act. The darkness cannot contain the unadulterated torture any longer. The intense agony from deep inside rises to the surface, and she bellows years of sorrow. Heart rendering cries of pure, utter despair for everything that she never has, and everything every child is supposed to be allowed. _

_Time has no meaning in this hell. One cry melds into another as the wounds violating her soul bleed freely in an unstoppable torrent. _

_Arms gently embrace her from behind, pulling her into a reassuring hug. Mitchie doesn't care who they are from and she turns around, burying her tearstained face into the shoulder and neck of her savior. Hands touch the back of her head, running through her hair. Eventually the sobs ease, and the tears slow, and Mitchie looks up to see the face of her angel._

_Concern, worry, and relief are all visible on the dark brown haired girl as she pulls Mitchie in for another hug. "I love you Mitchie," the smiling voice says._

_For the first time in what seems forever Mitchie does too. "I love you too Alex." Geniune hope is laced between every word._

The difference between the dream world, and reality is a very subtle line. When current events, and imagination merge anything is possible. That is why if Mitchie were awake she would realize that her unconscious memories replace Caitlyn with Alex.


	7. Chapter 7: Prison Hell Hope

**Another chapter where I faced a lot of writer's block. I finally got it done. I'm finding this story to be a lot more difficult to write then I expected. I'm not going to give any time line as to when the next update may come. As always, a little encouragement, and feedback does wonders. It also makes me much more incline to devote more time to this too!**

**Chapter 7**

"Mitchie!" Alex shakes the girl vigorously. "Mitchie!" More shaking follows, "Damnit Mitchie, wake up!" Alex loudly exclaims in frustration. She has been at this for the last couple of minutes, desperate to wake her roommate.

Finally all her efforts pay off and with a start the other girl becomes conscious. She bolts upright into a sitting position, eyes wide open, shocked, and panting hard as if she ran a marathon.

"Thank god." Alex says before relaxing in relief as she brushes some of the tangled hair out of Mitchie's face before sitting back on her heels. As she runs her fingers through the dark tresses she notes that they are damp, soaked with sweat. "Mitchie? Are you ok?"

"S-Selena? W-what?" Mitchie is confused. She should be at home. Why is Selena Gomez next to her? Better yet, why is Selena Gomez in her house? The memories from the past have formed fog in her mind, and it is taking a little bit for her to gather the rational from the fictitious. "W-here am I?" The voice is trembling, and her eyes are wild, unfocused. If Alex could see them in the dark she would notice that they are nervous, and bloodshot. "This… this isn't home."

"No," Alex confirms before gently placing a reassuring hand on Mitchie's shoulder. "This isn't the home I suppose you are used too, but this is your home nonetheless."

The lack of adequate light makes it difficult for Mitchie to make out Alex's features, and she realizes that her face is fortunately obscured too. She doesn't want the famous Selena to see her tears. "That doesn't explain why I'm here." Mitchie nervously replies looking at Alex for the answers.

"You truly don't remember?" Alex inquires, her level of worry growing. If Mitchie really doesn't remember then what can she do? She doesn't mention a word of this and instead grasps one of Mitchie's shaking hands. The skin despite being soft, and smooth is cold, and clammy.

Mitchie looks down at their entwined fingers. Mark, the contract, her name being taken away, meeting Alex, the Dark Room, everything comes back to her in a rush. "I remember," she sniffles. "Most of it anyways."

Tenderly Alex brushes the hair that has fallen into Mitchie's eyes back behind her ear. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The quivers coursing through Mitchie only increase as Alex looks into the terrified girls eyes. Mitchie is able to see the concern, the deep ingrained worry, the genuine meaning behind the brown orbs. Alex is exposing her soul, a crucial part of her personality emerging. Mitchie may not realize all of this, but she fathoms that Alex is at least being honest. With nothing left to offer Mitchie tilts her head towards Alex, nodding her head before collapsing into tears once more.

The pain of a lost childhood, the anguish of a having so few friends, the agony of regret, the torture of losing family, all of this spills in a horrific torrent on to Alex's shirt. The soft cotton quickly becomes soaked in a sea of tears that seemingly has no end. None of this seems to matter at all to Alex, the girl who holds and comforts Mitchie. Whispering soft words of encouragement, words of comfort, and the subtle promise of a future that perhaps isn't so dark, and meaningless as Mitchie's heart continues to insist that life actually has become.

Many minutes pass before Mitchie's cries soften to sniffles. Alex's arms are still around her body, and for once she feels warm, comforted, protected. "Thanks," whispers Mitchie. "I'm sorry. I usually don't get like that."

"It happens to the best of us. You did the same for me not so long ago if I remember correctly. It's only fair I return the favor." Alex offers a small smile that Mitchie appreciates, offering a grin of her own after separating herself from Alex. She moves back into a sitting position not far away.

"What I am doing here?" Mitchie inquires before looking down at the bedspread. Alex, suspecting there is more coming offers only a puzzled look at Mitchie's words. When none come she realizes Mitchie expects her to answer.

"What do you mean?"

Mitchie sighs despairingly. "What am I doing here? Why am I here? Everything in my life is nothing but one big fuck up after another. I seem be nothing, but a collection of failures, because this recording contract seems to be another one. What's the point in trying again?"

"We all make mistakes Mitchie. That's unavoidable. The only thing you can do is try to make the best of the situation." Alex replies softly.

Mitchie snorts in disgust. Alex's words seem to have hit a cord. "The best of a situation huh? That's great. Because right now all I see is a fucked up bitch that doesn't know how to shut up, and stop crying." The voice is much louder now, anger lacing every word.

Alex looks hurt. "I'm a fucked up bitch?"

Instantly Mitchie regrets what she said. After all, it wasn't directed at Alex. Vehemently she shakes her head in negation. "No! No, you definitely are not. I'm the fucked up one."

"Why?" Alex inquires. To be such an awful person must require quite a bit of effort. So far Alex hasn't seen any noticeable character flaws. If Mitchie does possess them Alex wants to know as much as she possibly can. Having competition being a rebel just won't due.

Mitchie thinks, chewing on her bottom lip trying to come up with a creative response. The pause ends abruptly when she realizes that she can't, and the truth is a much kinder answer. "My mother is never around. My father hates me. I have almost no friends. Want me to continue? "The agitation in Mitchie's voice grows with every word. All Alex is able to do is nod in affirmation. "I went to Camp Rock. I got a contract. I signed on the dotted line. I'm living my dream and now I am finding out is nothing, but another horrible nightmare. I'm stuck with lunatic for a boss, and a roommate doesn't seem to give a damn." There she said it. Everything is on the table now.

Alex remains quiet until Mitchie finishes her tirade. The statement about the roommate is deliberately not mentioned. "You haven't been here a week. If you think this is bad, wait until you've been here for three years." She isn't condescending; she is stating it like the fact it is.

"Yeah… well… tell me about it." Mitchie mumbles more out of sarcasm then anything else.

Alex misses the mockery. "Alright." She stretches, extending her comforter-covered legs out in front of her. "I have two brothers, Justin the oldest, and Max the youngest. Our parents own a sandwich shop just outside downtown Manhattan. We aren't poor, but we weren't well off either. All of us, especially our parents had to work hard. Justin was… is… a nerd." Alex rolls her eyes at this knowingly, and Mitchie smiles a little. "He got a full ride for college. I… never did as well as he did. Instead I got noticed for my singing talents. A few clubs, and contracts later here I am."

"Sounds like a glamorous life to me." Mitchie says. In comparison to her own, it sounds like paradise.

Alex shrugs. "It's the best any of us could given the circumstances. I had a loving, supporting family. In the end that is all that matters. Its too bad I didn't realize that then."

The one single word strikes Mitchie like a lightning bolt. The implications are not lost on her. "Had?"

"Yeah, had. Past tense."

"What happened?" Mitchie curiously asks. Tired of sitting upright she lies back down, happy to have something underneath her head. Alex remains were she is, shifting only to grip part of the comforter, pulling it up over Mitchie's torso.

Contrary to what Mitchie may see, Alex is deeply affected. She has perfected the mask to ensure that just how much remains a tightly guarded secret. "Justin and I had a…"she searches for the correct word choice, "falling out you might say. I was really angry, and I left home. That was right after I signed my first contract. The way I saw it, home was screwed up, I had nothing left so I might as well start over. The timing was pretty convenient." Alex purposely leaves out the part about the Wizard Competition, and Max, and her loss to Justin.

Mitchie looks at Alex waiting for her to carry on. She also intuitively senses there is more then Alex is saying, but the other girl won't say. "You left home? How old were you?"

"Nearly sixteen. I was still in high school, but it wasn't like I was going to finish. Long story made short on that note… school and I didn't get along. If it wasn't art I didn't give a damn." Alex shakes her head sadly at this thought before continuing. "Before you ask, yes I didn't graduate." The shame in her voice is clear.

Mitchie is speechless. The fabulous Selena Gomez not completing school? That is a definite shock. The press makes her out to be the perfect singing princess. What other lies have they conjured about the singer Mitchie wonders. "You really didn't finish school?"

Alex again shakes her head no. "I started performing a month after I signed the paper. For the most part I wasn't well known. The audience was pretty small. What I didn't realize was that the recording company was investing in an aggressive advertising campaign. Most of their acts, mine included, soared in popularity. In less than six months I went from clubs to full blown arenas. Along with it came the fame, and paparazzi."

"Money too I'd assume," interjects Mitchie.

Alex scowls. "Plenty of money, bags of money, but very little ever makes it to the performers like us. I suspect it is even worse for my band mates."

"You didn't get paid?" Mitchie doesn't like this bit of news. If Alex isn't getting a wage she, a newcomer is guaranteed not too.

"I get paid, but not very well. I'm worth probably millions, but I am lucky to see thirty grand a year." Most of which got sent home, although as before, the fact is not disclosed.

"I don't understand. All the glamour, all the shopping sprees, the limos-" Mitchie's eyes already wide with wonder grow wider still.

"That is all Marks' doing; he periodically gives us money; access to the cars, even planes every so often simply to allow the paparazzi something to follow. If we're famous we've got to act the lifestyle." Alex responds glumly. Unfortunately it is a tactic that works quite effectively too. Locked in the studio prison freedom, even if a myth becomes a powerful method of control. Mark grasps this concept better then anyone else, and exploits it with great effect.

The new revelations brought about by Alex hit Mitchie like a load of bricks. Each one is significantly more painful, and startling then the last. So wrapped up in her own thoughts she doesn't notice Alex moving, climbing under the covers beside her, making good use of the other pillow.

Deviously Alex quickly locks her cold feet against Mitchie's, the warmth instantly welcoming. "Ouch! Hey! That's not nice!" Mitchie clearly isn't expecting this and offers Alex a menacing stare, trying to free herself from the living ice next to them.

"That's what you get for sleeping in my bed!" Alex giggles. Mitchie rolls her eyes. She is able to move her feet way finding another spot of warmth that is fortunately far away from a certain someone. The laughter subsides, and quiet returns, both going deep in thought.

"If everything is so bad, why not leave?" Mitchie does not figure out the obvious; if conditions are so terrible why remain. From her perspective the choice seems rather clear.

Alex exhales noisily fully expecting that question. The seconds tick by one by one as the gears inside Alex's brain turn. Each revolution ponders the same thought. Should that be revealed? With the exception of Mark, no one but Alex knows why she has stayed for so long. Mitchie is a newbie, what could she possibly do with that information. Better yet, why does she need to know? After all it isn't like the girl may offer any sort of remedy.

"I have my reason's Mitchie. If I could I would have long ago. Believe me. This place is no paradise. Soon you are going to find that too. The only thing that matters in this world, Mark's world that is, is how much money he is able to make." Alex looks up from drilling holes into the sheets and to Mitchie's face. Tear marks still are visible on her cheeks, occasionally a crystal drop refreshing the near invisible rivers. The expression on Mitchie's face is one that is all too familiar to Alex. "If you believe anything that I am telling you, believe this. Once you start to become popular he will do absolutely anything to ensure that you don't leave."

The quietness returns for a moment as Mitchie takes this all in. "He threatened you, didn't he?"

Alex doesn't answer. She isn't sure whether she should, after all what does it matter. There isn't a whole lot either could do about the problem. Unfortunately her eyes shift to the left giving away the answer. "Yeah, well what happened, happened. Not much I can do about it now. But once you sign that dotted line, apparently it's for life, because I don't see how in hell I'm going to be able to stop singing."

"Do you want too?" To give up singing like Alex is suggesting is something Mitchie would never have believed unless it came out of the artists' mouth. Still even, to contemplate the effective death of Selena Gomez is difficult to swallow.

"I don't know what I want. Period." The anger returns, "I do know that I can't keep this up forever. Something has to give, Mark or Me. If that means I have to stop giving what amounts to free concerts week after week then so be it."

"I'm right in assuming that it isn't that simple, is it?" Mitchie is able to sense the irritation in Alex from her tone of voice.

Alex shrugs helplessly. "No, you're right. It isn't. It never is. But that doesn't make any else of what I said any less true," she counters nastily giving Mitchie a look.

Mitchie holds up both hands trying to make peace. "Look! I'm on your side. I'm only trying to understand. Don't kill the outsider!"

"Ok I won't. No promises about later though. How about telling the outsider what caused the torrent of tears earlier then." Alex feels that now is as good a time to ask as any. Plus, Mitchie stopped crying.

The other girl tenses, staring off at nothing before deciding that Alex at least deserves an explanation, maybe not the whole true, but an explanation nonetheless. "I didn't have the greatest childhood Alex."

"Yeah, well mine wasn't a picnic either." Alex exclaims. The last thing she wants to hear is a 'poor-me' routine.

"I hope not like mine." Mitchie's voice becomes distant. The change is not missed on Alex, and so abrupt is the variation it catches her attention. "I love my mother with all my heart. She works hard. She treats me like a princess, but she isn't often home. She owns a very successful catering business that is always in demand. Despite having other employees the work is never ending. She is often required to travel outside the city, sometimes the state, for high profile clients. What time she does get off, it is amazing. I'm always the center of her world. I'm her pride, and joy." Alex smiles in reflection. At least that is one thing the two have in common, their mother's.

Mitchie sees the expression on Alex's face and offers a sad smile of her own. "Yeah, I know. Nothing terrible about that right?" Mitchie pauses, sighing more to reassure herself before continuing. "Because she was gone so often I was left alone with my father. I don't know what happened exactly, but after awhile he started drinking. I guess it really doesn't matter. Eventually no matter what I did, I couldn't do right. It might have been stress at work, or maybe it was just him having a bad day. I really don't know. But I became a way to…de-stress for him."

Alex feels her stomach lurch in shock, and revulsion. "He hit you?"

"Yeah." Mitchie nods her head. "I tried so hard to please him. I got the top grades in school, I avoided the wrong crowds; I had interests. He seemed to hate it all."

"That doesn't make it right Mitchie. No one should ever hit you. Especially not a parent, please tell me you understand that." Alex says gently.

Mitchie responds with another nod. "I do at least partially."

"Partially?"

"Conceptually I do get it. I really, really do. But that doesn't change anything does it?" Mitchie turns so that she is staring up at the ceiling to avoid Alex's intense gaze.

"I don't understand." Alex replies.

"I know you don't. How could you? You only would if you'd gone through it." Mitchie growls as venom fills her voice.

For the first time in the conversation Alex detects genuine emotion in Mitchie's otherwise monotonous intonation. "You're absolutely right, but you still don't deserve to be hit. No one does."

"That is so easy to say, but so much harder to believe." Mitchie turns to face Alex again, trying so valiantly not to cry. "I loved him. I loved him so much, but he took away everything I cherished." The battle she is fighting is lost, and the overwhelming sadness finds its' escape down her cheeks once more.

Any residual frustration Alex has with Mitchie melts in a pool of compassion. Intuitively she knows that Mitchie is crying again. Despite the warnings in her brain to do the contrary, her heart decides first. Carefully she gathers the trembling girl into her arms, holding her gently.

Mitchie doesn't resist and allows Alex to guide her on to her shoulder. The warmth, strength, and calm words offered by Alex help to reassure the shattered world Mitchie is so painfully describing. The past meets the present in a collision that is leaving neither girl unscathed, but in the moment of crisis Alex remains stoic, unmoving. That stature, that sense of structured solidity is exactly what Mitchie needs. And the sobs begin to escalate despite Mitchie feeling safer, protected, and not as alone with Alex by her side. The hurt does not seeming so incredibly pointless to hold on to anymore. Mitchie, for the first time feels peace in her descriptions despite the agony being generated in her mind. Caitlyn is seldom able to generate that feeling, and Alex is doing so without trying.

"Is that what your dream was about?" Through the shirt Alex is able to feel Mitchie's head move in an up and down motion. "Yes. He smashed my guitar into bits and pieces in front of my eyes," she cries. "That was the day he became dead to me. And now I seem to be living in the same place all over again!"

The sudden wail catches Alex off guard. Sure it comes out as a little muffled from Mitchie crying into her shirt, but that doesn't diminish the puzzle behind the sentence. "All over again? What do you mean? Are you being hurt now by someone?" The thought of Mitchie suffering anymore makes Alex's blood boil. For reasons she doesn't quite understand the desire to protect, and shelter Mitchie is becoming overwhelming.

"Not yet! But that doesn't mean it won't happen again! You already said Mark will do whatever it takes to keep us here!" Mitchie lifts her head up, staring up at Alex through the darkness. "I had a dream. I wanted to sing. I wanted to perform. I wanted to see the audience cheer, yell, their faces burst with happiness, everything he hated. Every time I tried too he found a way to stop me!" The fury in Mitchie's tone is almost palpable, the raw hatred oozing with every syllable. "That contract was a blessing. My mother understood and encouraged me to follow my heart. I keep saying that is what I did. But the truth is I did it just to escape him! And now it is only going to be a matter of time before Mark finds a way to keep me here!"

The coldness already gripping Alex's heart somehow grows colder. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. For Mark to have any clue to Mitchie's past would be an unfathomable horror. What more can she possibly say? New girl, or not, Mitchie isn't dumb. She has caught on with alarming speed, listening intently to every word that Alex speaks, and put the pieces together in a way that takes Alex almost a year to determine. Weak, and disheartened Mitchie may currently be, but the girl is far from broken.

"Listen. We'll make it through this, we will." Alex gently cups Mitchie's damp chin. "I don't know how yet, but we will."

"But Mark-" Mitchie protests feebly.

"Don't worry about him. Let him think Selena and Demi are weak, and miserable. Let him live in the fantasy filled world of dollar signs." Alex says with a new air of confidence, and determination. "Eventually he is going to have to face the music."

Mitchie grins at the play on words, but her eyes, dim they may be in the dark are still skeptical. "How can you be show sure?"

"Because he has already made the first mistake.

"Really?" Hope is tinged in that single, powerful word. "How?"

Alex smiles before clasps Mitchie's hands in her own for added emphasis. "By putting you in this prison hell with me."


	8. Chapter 8: New Orders

**I finally got an avatar! Yay! I'm sad though my animation wouldn't work. Would have been nice to know before I spent that much time on it. Oh well.**

**Sorry for the long delay! For awhile I really didn't have much of a clue on where I wanted to take this story. However, I got a couple of suggestions, and thanks to a special someone (she knows who she is!) I was able to figure everything out! Hopefully I'll be able to update faster. Also, I've got to give shout-outs to those who reviewed and offered me feedback. A lot of people seem to be placing this story on alert status. Thank you to you guys too! I try hard to respond to every single alert, or review.**

**Lastly, I need your help. Chapter 4, I have a thought on expanding it out a bit more including adding dialogue. What do you guys think? Good as is, or does it need more? Ok! enough of me babbling! On with the show!**

**Chapter 8**

"I can't believe we are FINALLY done!" Mitchie exclaims as she sits on the corner of Alex's newly made bed. She wipes away the sweat on her forehead with her palm.

"I know right!" Alex finishes everything off by placing her skateboard on the shelf in its special spot. "I don't think I have ever seen my room this clean before!" That is likely the truth too.

The two have been working until the early afternoon to tidy up the space. Alex discovers that living alone has many advantages. The single greatest is that one really doesn't have to be concerned about what tends to lie on the floor, or scattered about haphazardly on shelves, and bookcases. Long accustom to such habits navigating about in the dark, or dim light isn't even a problem. She simply memorizes the worse disaster areas and tends to ignore, or avoid them. Usually this is the region most likely that will contain things that are capable of rolling, such as balls; incline skates, or the occasional skateboard.

Mitchie however, has no such ability. And assuming she even wanted to develop the talent, would rather not suffer the unfortunate 'accidents' that would inevitably occur in the process of learning. That is why Mitchie, after nearly ten minutes of lecturing a highly disinterested Alex, and another hour or so of attempting to pry the girl out of bed, begin to clean. Even going so far as to skip lunch by losing track of time. Neither willing to go to the kitchen to prepare anything they instead decide to order pizza from one of the local restaurants nearby.

The most difficult of the arrangement is putting together the stack of metal, and wood pieces that will convert Alex's single into a bunk bed. Mitchie learns rather quickly that Alex and tools, particularly those that involve screws are best left to other people. Alex learns that Mitchie, in addition to being a strong singer has a knack for putting things together. All she is required to do is hold the occasional piece from falling prey to the forces of gravity; she holding it up while Mitchie tightens and screws it into place.

The timing is perfect because as soon as the two are finished there is a knock. Alex gets up and opens the door. Mitchie can't see who it is because she is currently sprawled out on the lower bed on her back, staring up at the bottom of the other bed She assumes it is someone Alex recognizes though because she is able to hear the other girl talking.

"Thanks Amy! You're a life saver!" Alex says before shoving some dollar bills into the other girls' hand. "Keep the change!"

"Good to see you again Sexy. I'll see yeah soon." With that she hands Alex the large pizza, before turning away, and walking down the hall. "Thanks for the tip!" For good measure a blown kiss is thrown Alex's way too.

Alex smiles, shaking her head knowingly before heading towards the bed. Mitchie sitting up expectantly as the rich aromas of cheese, tomato, and grease mix together.

"Pizza's here." Alex announces.

"I can tell." Mitchie clears a spot for Alex as she sits down, setting the steaming cardboard down between them. Half starved she doesn't wait for Alex at all. Neither has a plate so they elect to use their hands, and the box. Mitchie throws open the box top, and scoops out a slice of pepperoni. Steam rises dangerously from the gloriously melted cheese. Mitchie ignores the warning, biting into the triangle tip, teeth gnashing through the crust with a crunch.

Alex smirks knowingly as Mitchie pauses mid-bite, eyes growing larger and larger by the minute. Frantically she looks around for her bottle of water. She spots the elusive plastic container, grabbing it with relish before downing half of its contents.

"Should have waited!" Alex laughs. She learns the identical lesson some time ago when she made the same mistake.

Mitchie glares at her with an unsafe glint in her eye. She doesn't like being teased. "Not funny Alex! You could have warned me!" She swears she burned off every taste bud on the tip of her still-stinging tongue.

"Yeah, I could have," Alex confesses with a giggle, "but it's much funnier this way."

"I don't find it funny." Mitchie pouts sticking out her bottom lip. "That really hurt." She uses her fingers to see if her tongue is still in intact.

Alex's laughter grows as she carefully lifts a slice of her own. To avoid the same error, blowing on it vigorously before taking the first bite. Everything is perfect as the explosion of flavors erupt in her mouth. "God that's good," she moans.

Mitchie nods her head in agreement. She is finally able to eat without the risk of further injury to her tongue. Besides the pizza is truly excellent. Well worth the price of a few moments of pain. "At least the hard part is done."

"We're not done?" Alex's eyes widen in shock. "Uggh." I hate this! I thought we were done!" The news apparently doesn't dissuade her that much because she greedily helps herself to more pizza. Another slice disappears in record time.

Unlike Alex, Mitchie is a bit slower, preferring to actually savor her food instead of outright inhaling it. "I guess you're part is done. All that is really left is for me to unpack my stuff."

"You're stuff? You have stuff now too?" Alex is genuinely curious.

"Did you really expect me to come in here with nothing but the clothes on my back?" Mitchie inquires.

"Well…" Alex's voice drifts off. Seeing the reaction Mitchie smiles.

"Just why did you think that would be so?"

Alex's tranquil eyes turn a much darker shade, her expression somber. "Mark…" Whatever more she is going to say she doesn't. Instead she focuses on her food once more.

That single, powerful name has so much meaning to the pair. Instantly Mitchie fathoms what Alex is eluding too. Alex isn't surprised that Mitchie has possessions. She is surprised that Mark hasn't found some way to interfere with them making their appearance along with her.

The rest of the meal is eaten in silence. Each girl leaves the other to her own thoughts. When the last morsel of food disappears Mitchie gingerly stands. She ducking her head momentarily to avoid hitting her head on the raised bed frame as she gets up, grabbing the now discarded pizza box in the process.

"I'll take care of this. Then I can finish up." Mitchie says before sighing wearily. In truth all she wants is to simply return to the comfort of that bed and drift off to sleep.

Alex's eyes do not miss Mitchie's body language. She intuitively reads the message loud, and clear. Alex stands too, following Mitchie to the trash room. "Is most of your belongings in boxes?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where they are now. All of that was taken out of the limo, and disappeared. Then I found out I suddenly have an all new wardrobe." Mitchie sighs unhappily. "I like new clothes as much as the next girl, but sometimes you just want your own things."

Alex nods her head in understanding. "The same thing happened to me. I found out later that they put all the 'unnecessary personal possessions'," she uses air quotes to highlight the phrase, "in storage downstairs."

"There's a downstairs?" Mitchie inquires. She truly thought that they were on the first floor.

"Yup, several in fact. Come on." Alex leads the way, guiding Mitchie through the various hallways until they reach a large freight elevator. Once inside she hits the button labeled B3.

"Basement 3? There is really that many underground floors?" Mitchie asks as she leans tiredly against the metallic wall.

Alex shrugs her shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know. Mark made my life a living hell when he found me exploring around before. I haven't had the guts to return."

"Sounds like an adventure. We should try it sometime!" Mitchie's eyes seem to sparkle with mirth while Alex shakes her head slowly and frowns. The elevator stops the conversation as the doors slide open with a beep.

Mitchie is expecting to see bare, concrete, and a vast open space, with dim lights, cobwebs, and just everywhere. Instead she finds that what is labeled a basement is probably more fitting to be called finished rooms that are generally filled with anything from equipment, props, electrical devices, or as with the case of Mitchie a few boxes, and a suitcase. Much to her lament are not ten feet away, and do not require exploring to find.

Alex seems to sense Mitchie's urge to wander, and takes control before the other girl is able to change her mind. Alex won't say it, but she is anxious to be here. Very few people are allowed in the storage areas. Technically since they, they being Mitchie and herself live here they have access. However, if Mitchie hasn't discovered this facet yet, she will soon enough. That is that Mark does not play by the rules. Although the two girls may have the privilege doesn't mean that it will be acknowledged as such. Time and time again Alex has seen this demonstrated first hand. Mitchie will too.

"I only have a few, and a rolling suitcase. It took my mom and I forever to pack." Mitchie says.

"Really? For some reason I was picturing you bringing an awful lot." Alex responds.

"I didn't." Mitchie grabs the handle to her suitcase and pulls it along. "The hard part was choosing what I wanted." Alex takes the remaining boxes, stacking them on top of each other as they make their way back to the elevator. "Most of what I did bring along is my favorite books, and a couple personal keepsakes."

"No songs?" This surprises Alex. She assumes someone like Mitchie would have brought those critical pieces of paper along.

Mitchie smiles knowingly. "No. Those came too. I figured that they would be top priority so I never included them along with my 'ordinary' items."

"Creative!" Alex exclaims. And she means it too. "Well if we can sneak back up to our room without anyone finding out we should be home free." She hits the main floor button with the tip of an unoccupied finger.

"Excellent! What is the probability that we will be discovered?" Mitchie asks wearily as they elevator starts to rise.

Alex doesn't have a good answer to this and shrugs as best she can. "Who knows; if it happens it happens. We'll just have to make the best of it."

* * *

Axel Turner is a music, and broadcast genius. In a mere decade he has complete mastery over a worldwide enterprise. In addition to owning his own television, radio, and internet channels has also earned the right to present any of his shows on any network, anywhere in the world with few exceptions. He is worshipped as much as he is feared. In a similar fashion as Mark, he has embraced the business world with a particularly brutal hand. In his stride to be the best he has left many people in destitute ruins, and with shattered dreams.

In an effort to bring in even more capital he, utilizing his strengths, founds _Camp Star_. The camp is designed to gather the most talented performers together, and allow them to pursue their dreams in front of an audience, specifically his worldwide audience. Nonetheless, the ulterior motive is far more sinister Axel Turner is determined to bring the end to his rivalry with Brown Cesario, founder of _Camp Rock. _Although time after time the two have feuded, no amount of talent or money seems to be able to stop Brown from recovering, and worse, thrive.

One of Axel's greatest disappointments comes from when the extremely talented Mitchie Torres refuses to sign on with his camp. Instead she sides with Brown, and with the assistance of her friends is able to prevent _Camp Rock_ from falling into business ruin.

When Mark emails him nearly a week ago in regards to a business proposal frankly he is quite surprised. It is not as if he hasn't heard of Mark Gaines or his skills, much the contrary. What does catch him off guard is the nature of the contact. After doing more initial research, and suitably impressed for the time being agrees to meeting face to face.

When Axel arrives he is a wearing a business suit, an official looking black leather overcoat, and of course, his trademark black sunglasses. An immaculate associate of Mark's escorts Mr. Turner throughout the maze-like grounds. All the while Axel's impression of Mark grows immeasurably.

The expansive studios, props, equipment, everything runs together like a fine tuned machine. That is exactly as he would expect an efficient, prosperous business to be run. He takes in everything; eyes wide open by intrigue, carefully hidden by the dark tinted shades.

Before he truly wants too the 'tour' ends. The suit knocking on Mark's office door, before it opens, and the guide disappears. This is the first time the two men have had to the opportunity to meet face to face.

"Welcome Mr. Turner!" Mark ushers the other man inside, closing the door behind them, ensuring it locks. "Please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable." He says pleasantly as he shakes the other man's hand before sitting down across from him.

"A pleasure, I'm sure. Know what is this nonsense you are suggesting? You really can't be serious can you?" Axel takes a seat leaning back comfortably allowing Mark to make the first move. "And before we continue Mr. Gaines, let us drop the politics. Call me Axel. I hate titles.

Mark purposely keeps his expression neutral; such is the nature of negotiations of this caliber. To demonstrate anything other than complete serenity is to be considered a sign of weakness. "I understand. Feel free to call me Mark. And you should realize by now that I never make such offers without diligently considering all possible avenues. I am merely suggesting an open partnership between our two organizations, _Star Broadcasting_, and _Frontier Media._ All of this for mutual benefit of course, you understand. "

Axel clasps his hands together thoughtfully. "Alright. Perhaps I see your logic. How did you arrive at this… revelation shall we say? I doubt that this idea magically appeared out of thin air."

This is an anticipated question, but the question facing Mark is whether to allow total disclosure, or not. Sometimes one is best left to not reveal everything, especially in the eyes of a potential foe. In this case though, he decides against his better judgment to do otherwise. "You realize that in the course of… normal business operations one is always looking for potential avenues of growth." Axel cautiously nods his head uncertain where this discussion is leading. "I will confess your corporation, _Star Broadcasting_ has been a topic of conversation for some time now."

"I trust that this has been largely positive." Axel interjects.

"Of course. If not you certainly would not be sitting in that chair across from me now." Mark relies casually.

"Fair enough, I suppose. One must be weary of potential… competitors." Axel says. "Now let me be equally candid, Mr. Gaines," he deliberately refers to the other man by his proper title. "The question at hand is whether your intention is to turn me into an ally, or a foe? I must confess that I find your offer appealing, but you surely may fathom my reluctance. If you were to reiterate your proposal here, now, in this office, then that would go far in reassuring my fanatical fears. If you do not, I fear we have nothing to discuss. I shall walk out the door, and not return."

Chuckling fills the room as Mark laughs pleasantly. How he misses the joys of banter with someone who truly grasps the niceties of such a skill. "I see that you are rightly a man of your stature." Mark leans forward and produces a sheet of expensive stock to Axel. "Without the legal jargon here is my proposal. _Star Broadcasting _will be allowed first exclusive rights on any of our shows, current or future. _Frontier Media_ will have exclusive recording, and publishing rights to all of _Star Broadcasting_ music talents."

"Hmm. Intriguing. And what of our current stars?" Axel questions, his expression unreadable.

"They will be pooled together, concerts arranged, and the proceeds, will be split evenly between our two enterprises."

"No. That is unacceptable. Both of us have successful acts. I will not have profitable tours sundered away. Allow the current tour contracts to continue. At their conclusion joint ventures are acceptable. I propose that any stars we deem adequate from _Camp Star_ be allowed immediate recording contracts through your company." Axel's intentions for this minor detail are two-fold. First off, it will be profitable, second, it will serve as yet another launch point for _HIS _stars and not that damned Brown, and his band of demons.

"Done." This is actually an easy choice for Mark. He in fact likes this arrangement better than what he was proposing moments ago. "Two of my top performers will be heading to New York tomorrow." The fact that Selena is on vacation means nothing to him. Better yet, the new brat Demi will be going along. They will be leaving tonight, or may whatever gods above help them. "I would be honored if you were able to make the show as my personal guest."

"That sounds delightful." For the first time Axel smirks. "I take it that you would have no disagreements about making this a televised event then?"

Mark's contains his happiness and allows a small grin to appear on his face. "Absolutely," he stands straightening his tie, and shirt for a moment before offering his hand. "I take it we have a deal."

Axel too stands, removing his glasses so the two men are able to see face-to-face, eye-to-eye. "We have a deal."

* * *

Mitchie and Alex have finished dinner in the cafeteria. Eating just prior to being closed the pair has the large room almost entirely to themselves. While the food is marginally above mediocre they enjoy themselves. Particularly the sword fight using bread sticks. After all, there is no way those things are edible. It's quite difficult when you can't even bite into the tough crust. They won't even break after hitting them along the edge of the table hard, repeatable. Both quite decidedly agree that after a steak knife fails to saw through the supposedly non-toxic substance (they handedly concur that it isn't food after all) to never sample this particular dish again. After much laughter, plenty of crumbs, and a few bruises along the arms they are quite content to leave. Still giddy after the food fight they begin the trek back to their room.

"I so had got you!" Mitchie laughs.

"Did not! You missed my neck by a mile!" Alex replies with giggle.

"Oh really? How do you explain that?" Mitchie counters by pointing at a circular red mark about the diameter of the bread stick. Alex apparently doesn't understand because she offers a puzzled 'are you crazy expression'. "Yeah. You have a hickie right there!" She pokes the spot.

Instantly dull pain weaves through Alex's brain. "Ouch! What did you do?" Gingerly she touches the area, investigating just how large the ache really is. Frowning she turns to a still chuckling Mitchie. "I can't believe you did that! You are so mean!" Alex gripes as she pushes the other girl away.

Mitchie only laughs harder as she bounces off the wall, eyes sparkling. "Stop complaining! Have you seen what you did to my arm?"

"Does it matter? Your not the one who looks like someone had a fangless vampire sucking on their neck all night long." Alex is fuming. She really doesn't want to use her valuable makeup for something stupid like this.

"Well you shouldn't have started it then!"

"I didn't! You did!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Mitchie rolls her eyes. "Did not! You poked me first!"

This time Alex is unable to hide her smirk. Ok so Mitchie _might_ be right. "That doesn't mean you _had_ to retaliate!" The counter is perfectly logical in her mind; after all it takes two to tango as the saying goes.

"Uh huh. And you would have kept right on stabbing me." Mitchie gives Alex her best accusatory stare. "Wouldn't you?"

"Hey don't give me that look!" Alex defends as she throws up her hands innocently. Mitchie continues to glare. Finally Alex gives in. "Ok! Ok! More then likely, yes."

Mitchie smiles gleefully at the admission. "Glad we had this talk!"

"For the record I still hate you." Alex grumps, clearly unhappy that Mitchie uncovered her carefully orchestrated ploy. If this is a trend that continues into the future it is something that is going to take quite a bit of getting used too.

"Selena! Demi! There you two are! I've been looking everywhere for you girls." Brandon one of the musicians for Alex exclaims as he huffs, and puffs in front of them. "Mark is going crazy that he wasn't able to reach you. You gotta head to his office. Pronto!" For added emphasis he grabs one of each of their arms and begins to pull them forward at a more hurried pace.

Alex doesn't like this idea and drags her heels, not caring about the sudden pain as her shoulder is wrenched forward comfortably. "Hold it Bran. You better slow it down, or else!"

"Or else what? I'm much more afraid of the Tyrant then you." He continues to pull, Mitchie following along unresistingly.

"Stop for a second or I'll tell everyone your nickname." She knows that he is _fiercely _protective of not having that particular tidbit of information released. With good reason too when you're referred too as _Bran_ _Flakes _people tend to take undesired interest in your life. Mainly this comes across in the form of jests, jabs, and jokes.

Brandon gathering that Alex is serious halts, and turns around. "Make this fast Russo. I really don't want to be on the end of the sharp stick again."

The dark head nods. "Bran, what does he want?" She shrugs off his wrist and instead falls into step beside him. Mitchie follows along pretending to not listen. She is content to focusing on the hallway tiles in front of her.

"I don't know Alex. I really don't know, but he is in one of his moods." Brandon calmly grips Alex's hand. "Please don't piss him off too bad this time. I think he is out for blood this time." The pair have known each other for over a year. To be sure they harass, and tease each other to no end, but they genuinely care about each other. In this brief moment Alex is able to sense that Brandon isn't simply pulling her leg, he is quite serious, more so than he ever.

Apparently that glance is all the two need to make peace Mitchie realizes because not a word is spoken until the trio arrives at Mark's door. Alex looks back at her friend, and decides to give him a goodbye jest. "I'll try. Cya 'round Bran Flakes."

Mitchie looks at Alex then back at Brandon. Upon seeing his horrified face bursts out laughing. Alex does too as Brandon turns away scowling. Muttering something under his breath about how unfair life happens to be.

The laughter apparently is contagious because the door opens to reveal a chuckling Mark. For an instant both girls brighten at seeing he isn't horrifically angry. Unfortunately that isn't to be as the hulking man stops his blusterous banter, the typical frown returning as with nothing but a finger beckons them inside. "I hope you two are happy, because I'm certainly not. Get inside. NOW."

As par his usual he is wearing an immaculate dress suit. Alex could careless about her attire, but Mitchie is painfully aware that she is still wearing the clothes that she was cleaning in not so long ago. Dirt, dust and a host of other material decorate her jeans and t-shirt in a way she feels is most unflattering for a meeting such as the one she has currently found herself in.

"Well. So glad you two girls could join me." He leers at them nastily. If he is trying to unnerve the pair he is succeeding. "Selena you always were a rat so you looking like trash is to be expected. However, Demi I thought more highly of you. You let me down. Such a shame." The words are carefully chosen to purposely intimidate. Mitchie looks crestfallen.

Alex only crosses her arms in annoyance. "Look. You obviously have some sort of plan. So quit the suspense, and give it to us straight?"

"Ah always the impatient one. You could take a lessen from Demi, maybe her attitude will wear off on you. You know I always like my employees silent, and submissive."

"My name is Mitchie. Please quit calling me by my stage name?" Mitchie politely asks. She doesn't mind her fans doing that. After all that is part of being a performer. Nevertheless, a professional, and her boss referring her as such, no that is unacceptable, and out of line.

Mark is wondering when the quiet one would speak up. Apparently he has his answer. Mimicking Mitchie's polite, and calm tone he replies. "I could, but I choose not too. Get used to it Demi. In fact, in my presence I don't want to hear you _ever_ use your real names again. Is that understood?" Mitchie's eyes widen in horror. Before she is even able to come up with a retort Alex beats her to the punch.

"How about you try taking that stick out of your ass." Alex snaps. "We can call each other whatever the fuck we want you sack of pig shit!"

If Alex is striving for a significant impact she fails quite miserably. Quite the contrary Mark's devious grin only grows into an all out smile. _Poor, poor Selena, she is so typically predictable. I'll let it go for now._

"ALEX!" To both Mark and Alex's surprise the shout comes from Mitchie. Clearly she is quite offended at course the conversation has taken. Suddenly aware of all eyes on her she flushes red, voice lowering to just above a whisper. "May we continue without the insults? Please?"

Mark smiles at Mitchie, and takes a seat at his desk across from both the girls. Fortunately for Alex Mitchie saved her from having a cheek reddened painfully. "An excellent suggestion Demi. I think you are quite right. Wouldn't you agree Selena?" Alex wisely decides to say nothing and keeps her mouth shut. "Ok. Being silent is fine too. Now that I have your undivided attention I thought I would be polite and let you two brats know that there will be a couple changes."

Alex doesn't like where this is heading, and instinctively looks at Mitchie. Their eyes meeting at the same time as if to say 'Uh oh'. Mitchie, however, unlike Alex is being positive. She refuses to believe that everything about the man is despicably evil. That does not change that he is speaking to them with a seriousness that seems to bereave any sense of happiness, or joy.

"First thing's first. Selena, your vacation ends this evening. Actually it ends now. Everything is in place to take you to the airport. You leave tonight. Pack the usual." Mark grabs the itinerary before placing it in front of the startled girl. Once she gets over the initial shock, the response isn't pleasant.

Alex takes the paper and scans it quickly. Her dark eyes grow darker, more livid by the minute. "You can't do that!" Alex is furious, her face scrunched up in a scowl of rage. "Except for Mitchie's opening concert, you said I had a couple of weeks off! I _WANTED_ that time to myself! I knew I should never have trusted you!"

"Frankly I don't give a damn whether you trust me, or not. But you _WILL _respect me." He stands pointing a dangerous finger at Alex. "You _WILL _be on that goddamn plane. You have a northeast tour starting in New York. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah, clear as fucking mud." Alex foolishly mouths off, not caring at all of the consequences at this moment. Crossing her arms defiantly across her chest she is making it as evident as possible that she is dissatisfied. "You're so lucky Mitchie. Damn you Mark."

This time Mark does strike Alex, the unmistakable sound of a palm crashing against a cheek. Despite the shock, and pain the cry doesn't come from her lips. Instead it originates from Mitchie. She is terrified, both hands covering her face.

Mark expects the reaction from Alex, but seeing Mitchie horrified is only a bonus. He doesn't know the reason, or really cares. He has her obedience, and that is the only thing that matters. "Now that I have your attention. Let me re-illiterate. _YOU_," he points at Alex, "are Selena. _YOU_, "he points at Mitchie," are Demi. Learn your fucking names. Make love to them, because I don't want to hear anything else! Do you understand?"

Alex meets Mark's gaze, and nods her head. Mitchie requires another minute to gather herself before she too concurs. Her reply is a barely audible whisper. Seeing that her friend is upset Alex comfortingly wraps an arm around Mitchie, she quickly embracing the gentle touch of reassurance.

Mark is oblivious to the show of support, and continues on as if nothing has happened. "Now, Selena, apparently I gave you the impression that you are journeying alone. Well, you aren't. Your little girlfriend Demi here is going with you."

It is like a lightning bolt strikes Mitchie because she sits up in surprise. "M-me? I'm going?" She manages to stammer out. "Why me? I'm a nobody."

"Well, you are definitely correct at being a no body Demi. But that does not seem to matter to the audience. According to my sources your little stint with Selena the other night was a smash hit. Consider yourself permanent partners. Of course, Selena will remain the headliner. You will be performing right before her." Mark casually outlines for the two girls.

"I… I don't know what to say." Mitchie is quite speechless.

"You could thank me." Mark boisterously suggests.

Alex interjects before Mitchie is able to respond in kind. "Don't you dare! That lying crackpot doesn't deserve anything! He should be rotting in hell for everything he has done to help us!"

Mark sighs. He is quickly tiring of this little charade. It seems like this happens every single time he makes an announcement. "You know what? I've had it with your attitude Selena. You had better get your sorry ass in line Princess, or I'll make sure your life, and everyone's around you is a living fucking hell. DON'T think about crossing me right now. You hear? You eat when I say you do. You breathe when I say you do. You shit when I say you do. You sing when I say you do. And just to make sure you stay in line, and to make sure you don't mess up the timetables. I'll be joining you on this little escapade." If Alex has a reaction she doesn't make it obvious. Mitchie though just stares, mouth agape. "Now. Get the fuck out of my sight. We leave in thirty minutes. And Selena, Demi, _DON'T_ make me have to wait."


	9. Chapter 9: Learning to Fly

**Ok. I know I mentioned to some of you I was going to update this much sooner then I actually did. I apologize. A friend of mine was in a crisis situation, and that took precedence. However, to make up for it I'm back with a vengeance! I'm actually on a roll! I did a duel-update, both my stories are getting new chapters at the same time! Please feel free to check out my other work (*hint *hint *nudge *nudge). **

**To everyone who put me on alerts and offered a review, thanks. I love knowing that people enjoy what I am doing. I've got to give special credit to a few people though. A3dn, stepsteptrip, ChronoCresentFlames your thoughtful opinions were invaluable. This chapter goes to you guys.**

**Lastly, this update is coming after two days of no sleep. So if there are huge glaring mistakes sent me a shout-out. I'll go back through and correct the errors when I am to function without using the keyboard as a pillow.  
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**Chapter 9**

Alex storms out of the office fuming. Her nails are digging into her palms hard enough that she is surely drawing blood. Mitchie isn't feeling much better then her counterpart, but at least she is able to present a calm face, if nothing else then for her friend.

"Alex, you can't let him get to you, you know." Mitchie daringly suggests. In spite of the risk it does not diminish the truth in the wisdom behind her words.

Apparently that is a mistake since Alex vehemently lashes out, turning on her heel mid stride. The dark eyes blaze fury on to the startled brunette. "DON'T start. DON'T you dare fucking start! I don't want, or need to hear it from you too!"

Mitchie backs up, both hands in the air as if to pronounce her innocence. "Look. I'm only trying to help. Please," it is rare for her to plead, but she tries the tactic now. "Let me in. What is troubling you so much?"

"I don't want to hear it." The venom still does not leave Alex's voice.

"But-" Mitchie is cut off as she tries again.

"I said NO!" The conversation ends as quickly as it begins. Alex abruptly turns back around in the direction of her, rather their room. Mitchie sighs wearily before slowing following. After all, she doesn't have much choice. The two are living in the same space.

Mitchie procrastinates her arrival as much as she possibly can to allow Alex the maximum amount of time to clear her head. Unfortunately that five, or six minutes isn't nearly enough. The other girl already is dragging out her rollaway suitcase. A pile of clean clothes neatly stacked on the lower bunk. Interestingly not one outfit is fit for being on stage. All seem to be casual clothes.

A quick scan of Alex is all the indication Mitchie requires to avoid any conversation. Instead she swallows down the temptation, pulling out her own suitcase, the same one that earlier today had just been filled with her possessions. Strange sense of timing she fathoms.

Unlike Alex hers is set on the floor beside the bed. Mitchie quickly gathering garments from their hiding spots, selecting this, discarding that; everything must be perfect.

The harsh, hushed curse from across the room captures Mitchie's attention. Alex is in the process of arranging the piles of color textiles into the case. While most is carelessly folded a sizable portion remains in a messy ball. This sphere of trouble is what is currently feeling Alex's wrath. Already in a terrible mood from before she is now merrily smashing, punching, everything possible to forcefully encourage confinement within the plastic interior. Of course, all these methods only serve as gasoline on to the firestorm of frustration she is already battling.

"Alex?" Mitchie turns away from the luggage container she has unzipped, an armful of clothes about to be deposited within.

"Yeah Mitchie?" Irritation is laced between every syllable, along with a hint of weariness. Alex's voice though remains steady, and unbroken. The slight clue of vulnerability unnoticed.

Having been watching Alex out of the corner of her eye for the last minute, or two she is about to offer assistance. That idea is quickly tossed aside in luau of direct support. A few steps are all it takes for her to cross the minute space separating the pair.

"Here let me help." Mitchie says as she abruptly removes the outermost layer of the woven ball to expose a badly wrinkled t-shirt. Further probing displays more variants of the same garment. All are diverse colors, designs, and prints on the front, followed than by pants, and a few skirts. Using her hands she smoothes out the worst of the wrinkles. And, to the other girls' astonishment, places it back on top of the other folded laundry.

Alex is astounded. "What are you doing?" This has never happened before. Accustom to years of scrutiny, suspicion, and spying the trend of ever-heightened security has become a sort of regiment of life. If her eyeballs are capable of growing larger than they already are, some how they do so as Mitchie adds to the rapidly growing collection. A mystified Alex watches with saucer-like eyes as Mitchie breezes through the t-shirts, beginning on the other girl's pants.

A full, long minute passes before Alex has the nerve or rather ability to interfere with Mitchie's charmed work methodology by tightly grabbing her wrist. Two pairs of liquid, dark brown eyes meet in a contest that is filled with only winners. Expecting to find hostility, skepticism, and uncaring intentions Alex discovers friendship, warmth, and love. The alien emotions tear through the stone-skinned girl like a battering ram through a butter wall.

Alex Russo is a rebel, an outcast, and adored by millions. Anything that money may buy is at her fingertips. Yet, everything that is free, and most fundamental to being made being an accepted part of a healthy, interactive community is strangely vacant. Although a small hole in the overall mosaic of life the picture is critically incomplete. The piece missing from the puzzle is a vital component to her heart. The wound is incapable of healing, and slowly bleeds in imperceptible rivulets of confidence, self-worth, and esteem. Day after day Alex shoves these feelings into a dark void, and out of sight. Thin the river of blood may be, but second by second they collect into a pool of sadness, guilt, and shame that drop by drop tarnishes the integrity of the spirit.

To protect herself she has erected barrier after emotional barrier out of pure necessity. The continual psychological trauma received on a near daily basis challenges not only her aspirations for the future, but the definition by that she considers herself an individual. The true imprint of injury on the sensitive Alex Russo is by the man violently striping off the potential to demonstrate abilities that define her personality. Whether Mitchie realizes the crossroads Alex is traversing is irrelevant. The comprehension on whether Alex is capable of escaping the incredible depressive rut is irrelevant too.

Alex's greatest flash of despair, the moment when the utter realization that the blaze of a brighter world, the fires of courage, and the flame that drives the human spirit is nothing but a lie; when the darkness is overwhelming, and hope an impossible memory in some distant, forgotten reality that is about to silence the soul into oblivion has arrived.

As if moths to a flame, two pairs of dark, crystalline orbs meet. In that one instant, in the blink of a heartbeat, the fraction of a minute, an entire lifetime of familiarity is communicated in a manner no words in any language are capable of translating. In that one second of a countless million that derive a lifetime Alex discovers the true meaning of friendship. Alex is able to re-affirm that not everyone in this world of pain, grief, and overwhelming anguish is capable of inflicting nothing but heart rendering agony. Alex, for the first time in an unfathomably, unreasonably despicable amount of time is offered a glimpse into the profound human component known as kindness.

The offering does not come by way of fear, or admiration, but simply because it is character trait Mitchie has embraced genuinely as her own. The subtle nuisance is a small, but oh-so-meaningful separation that truly sets the other girl apart from most others. Normally any violation into her space such as the crime Mitchie is currently committing would be received with harsh, possibly physical reaction. While it is true Alex is responding to Mitchie, it is not in the manner that she expects. For once she feels at peace, tranquil. The emotion is almost as alien as the subconscious message being oozed by Mitchie at the offer, and acceptance of friendship.

For as long as Mitchie may remember she has always been able to pick up the minutest changes in expression, whether it is body or facial. As she continues to fold neatly fold Alex's laundry intuitively she is able to grasp that for once the two have reached a point of mutual understanding. From enduring escapades with her father she has long been able to identify potential areas of conflict. Out of sheer necessity it is a skill she reluctantly embraces. Worse, she is able to utilize the talent to great affect too. Automatically Alex triggers all of the warning signs placing Mitchie on guard. Somehow, and for reasons she cannot fathom, is able to ignore the constant barrage on her mind to do otherwise.

The purpose is far more profound then simply ignoring messages in her brain. After having known Alex for practically a week, the soft-spoken, kind-hearted girl has found companionship in the headstrong, stubborn, foul-tempered Russo. If there is any truth in the saying opposites attract, this surely is the embodiment of that statement.

The silence is deafening as Alex, after a long moment or two begins to work on part of what is left of the rapidly diminishing pile. When their gaze meets Alex offers a small smile of peace to Mitchie. She seems to have gotten the message because it is returned with an even larger, beaming grin.

"Are you ok?" Mitchie asks still genuinely worried about Alex.

A deep sigh fills the room as Alex ponders how to answer. For once, she decides upon the truth. "No. I guess I'm not."

"Why not?" Mitchie predictably asks while placing a folded skirt into Alex's suitcase.

"Don't worry about me Mitchie." Alex stops what she is doing and places a reassuring hand on Mitchie's shoulder. "I'll be fine. You should be worrying about yourself, not me." She isn't sure whether that is exactly true, but nonetheless she puts on her best 'game face'.

Unfortunately Mitchie has seen this before. She remembers the fore long look, the distant emotionless stare from the concert. This is the same thing. With the clothes done she sits down on the bed besides Alex, the suitcase between them. "You aren't ok. I can see it written all over your face."

Inwardly Alex curses tries so hard not to be read like a book and somehow Mitchie is able to do just that, despite her best counter-efforts to avoid the situation. "Doesn't mean I want to talk about it."

"Maybe you should." Mitchie quietly suggests. She knows from her own experiences that talking with others, thinking everything through more often then not allows her at least a little piece of mind. If she is able to offer even a fraction of that tranquility to Alex then she will do so.

Alex isn't sure whether to be frustrated, or angry towards Mitchie. The conflicting emotions are confusing, and make her head hurt. Despairingly she rubs her forehead in thought, contemplating her options. Mitchie patiently allows Alex all the time in the world. "Why do you care so much?" The question emerges as a lot harsher than either girl expects, especially Alex. Even to her the response sounds severely venomous.

"Why not?" Mitchie casually shrugs her shoulders. "I mean it isn't like I am going anywhere soon. Like it or not Alex, you and I are stuck here together. I'd vastly prefer to live along side you then against you." Mitchie looks down at the floor in thought before continuing. Alex, on the other hand openly stares at Mitchie trying to judge whether the spoken words hold truth in their meaning. "Mark thinks you are a terrible, three-headed demon. You don't seem so horrible to me. Misunderstood perhaps, but not evil." Mitchie sighs, and catches the deadpan gaze Alex is giving her. "But I also don't believe that anyone gives you the chance to be anything, but a perceived notion."

That sentence has more meaning then anything else Mitchie has spoken of all night. Deep in her heart of hearts, Alex knows that she is right. The mere fact that someone has uncovered that sacred secret is both painful as it is welcoming. Since Alex is always unable to meet Mark's unreasonably high standards she instead acts against his methodologies. Sometimes it is out of anger, or frustration, but the real reason is far more philosophical. Alex does so simply to be identified as different. Whether being assigned a negative, or positive designation is the least of concerns as long as Mark offers some resemblance to a parental figure.

The silence is deafening as precious minute's tick by. A question eats at mindlessly at the corners of her brain. Almost like the answer to a question that lies just out of grasp. Plenty of clues are offered, but none give the explanation to the mystery, the enigma that is Selena, or rather Alex Russo. In the brief time that Mitchie has known the girl the glimpse into the world of music is thrilling, as much as it is terrifying. If the present is a reflection upon the future it is a miracle to see Alex standing on her own two feet.

_And thanks to Mark, that is literal as much as figurative. _Mitchie realizes sadly. That thought brings Mitchie out of the haze her mind has created. The bed springs creaking as she stands to gather the remaining clothing into her suitcase. Alex does not move. She seems paralyzed in deep thought.

When the final articles are safely tucked away in the rectangular container of plastic Mitchie decides the time has come for action. For once she ignores the cries her mind offers, and follows the longing in her heart. Sure she may not have met Alex that long ago, but that does not reduce the innate desire to reassure, to comfort, to help. The trait is one that represents, but a small fraction of Mitchie's character, but in certain specific times shouts with a pull, and voice that cannot be ignored. This is one of those moments. This is one occasion that no matter the risks, no matter the intense worries, and fear behind the deliberate motions; nothing is going to prevent her from making the attempt. And in that fraction of a second that the powerful emotions race throughout her body Mitchie is already on her feet, on the move.

The lost expression on Alex's face seems to only grow as Mitchie carefully sits besides the raven-haired girl. Alex's stare is drilling holes into the floor, and does not alter in the least, not even caring that Mitchie has moved. That still does not change when two arms wrap gently around her shoulders. Having already sensed the tentativeness in the moment Mitchie allows Alex the freedom to dictate the level of the embrace.

Instead of being a gesture of comfort Mitchie believes that she made a terrible mistake. Alex seems to be growing more, and more tense. The muscles in her body grow rigid, chest tight, she almost holding her breathe. Inches away from the brunette soft scent of citrus fruit from her shampoo fills her nose. The warmth of Mitchie's skin permeates into her soul. The arms, the hugs all are indicative of an expression almost alien. Alex rides the emotional rollercoaster with the enthusiasm of an excited teen, and when the ride stops cannot contain it any more. A very startled Mitchie discovers Alex burying her face into her shoulder, sobbing.

Arms that remind her so much of the peaceful support offered by a mother, or her best friend powerfully make their presence known. Already yielding to the weight of guilt, the additional level of internal blame forces the normally resilient, Alex to buckle, and shatter. The tears come unabated, a torrent of sadness that leeches into Mitchie's shirt. For the second time in a period that is too short to be fair, Mitchie finds herself cradling Alex Russo, trying to soothe wounds that the other girl refuses to show.

Cooing softly Mitchie rubs circles of encouragement on Alex's back. "Talk to me. What is going on?"

"You wouldn't understand," the muffled voice responds. Mitchie is able to the feel the other girl's lips mouth against her shirt.

"I might not," she says leaning her head against Alex's. "But you won't know until you at least try."

"Why?" Alex inquires as she turns her head to the side so that her ear, and not her mouth are now on Mitchie's shoulder.

"Why what?" Mitchie asks not understanding the question.

"Why do you care?" Alex sniffles, wiping away tears with a furious hand.

"Because you are hurting." Sensing that Alex is calming down Mitchie tries to further the process. A soft hand runs through the other girl's tresses. The silk-soft strands feeling fantastic against her hand. "I don't like seeing other people suffer, especially friends."

Friends. The single word has so much meaning. A fresh wave of tears cascades down Alex's cheek as the ramifications sink deep into her heart. "You're my friend too Mitchie. You're my friend too." Alex closes her eyes, breathing in deep hoping beyond hoping that this isn't another cruel dream. When she opens them again all that greets her is Mitchie's smiling face. Still sniffling Alex picks her head up off Mitchie and embraces the other girl tightly. For the first time in as long as Alex is able to remember, her heart feels warm, content, at peace. The almost indecipherable heartbeat of Mitchie's matching her own.

"Now that we have established that we are friends." Mitchie still smiling decides to try negotiating with Alex again. Happily allowing her fingers to dance, and play along the other girl's scalp. "How about telling me what is wrong. You haven't been the same since we were dragged to Mark's office. I can't help you if I don't know what is troubling you."

"Mitchie…" Alex's voice drifts off trying to avoid the subject.

"Alex," Mitchie gently chastises. "Let me help," she lifts Alex's chin up to look deep into the other girl's eyes. "Trust me."

The depth of the sincerity somehow pierces Alex's tough exterior. Somehow a glimpse through the pupil portal into Mitchie's soul is the final encouragement needed. Much like a puppet master maneuvers slivers of word to manipulate fictitious limbs, Mitchie has dutifully maneuvered Alex into a position where her brain is unable to erect its normal mental walls. Instead of targeting the impossibly thick emotional psyche Mitchie plays to Alex's weakness. The strategy is wonderfully effective despite the simplicity. Mitchie appeals to Alex's heart. The one place that strives to be acknowledged, accepted, more than any other singular point. In doing so Alex finds a position she has never experienced before since signing that damning piece of paper known as a contract. She feels loved.

"I'm in trouble Mitchie. I'm in really big trouble." Alex starts off as she pulls herself upright. Mitchie nods, allowing Alex the space, but remains immediately nearby. "I can't do this any more." The genuine touch of emotion sends a shiver through Mitchie. She hasn't heard Alex respond with such passion.

"You can't do what any more?" Mitchie isn't able to identify with Alex and feels utterly lost.

"This!" Alex creates a big show by making a sweeping motion with her arms, almost hitting Mitchie in the process. Noting the puzzled expression on her face Alex elaborates. "Everything!" Anger begins to weave between the words. "All I do is sleep, eat, sing. In that order day after fucking day! There is _nothing_ here for me!"

Sensing that Alex needs the support Mitchie reaches around the exasperated girl with an arm around the shoulders. "That's not true I'm-"

Alex interrupts not wanting to hear whatever lies flow from Mitchie's mouth. "Don't start! You're wrong! All I am is a fucking pawn to that bastard!" Pure vengeance spews from her mouth now. She shrugs out of Mitchie's embrace to angrily pace about the room.

"Have you thought about trying a different approach?" The stare that Mitchie receives is one that openly appears as though Alex imagines she has grown a second head. "I mean, what happens if you are nice to him? Have you thought about not trying to make him so angry all the time?"

Incredulous Alex turns on her heels. Not believing the course the conversation is taking. "Just who's side are you on anyways?"

"I am on your side here Alex." Mitchie purposely keeps her voice low, controlled, gentle. "Can you answer one question for me?"

"You just did." Alex snidely remarks, her tone indicative of increasingly growing annoyance.

Mitchie resists the urge to roll her eyes at such a predictable answer. Then again, she had it coming to her so she can't really blame the other girl. "Alright, two questions then since you already answered one." She swallows down the lump of nervousness threatening to rise. The question on her mind is one that has puzzled her for some time. Obviously Mark does not treat either of them well. Too further aggravate him seems quite the wrong working methodology. To her the action is the equivalent to adding gasoline to a fire in an attempt to extinguish the flames. In asking this question she realizes only two outcomes exist. Alex will either open up, and elaborate, or cruelly shut her out with no looking back. "Why do you annoy Mark so much?"

_Mitchie don't start. You had better not start. I don't need you lecturing too. _Alex sighs, irritation quietly returning. "I have my reasons. Drop it."

"No," she shakes her head. "What you do affects both of us. If you mouth off to him I have a right to know about it." Mitche is firm in her resolve, she wants answers, and is determined to give them.

The unfortunate truth is that Alex isn't completely sure why she does half the things she does. Her banter with Mark is no exception. Part of the explanation is she can't stand the man. Additionally, she also is furious with his deliberate maneuverings that allow him to keep her virtual hostage by threatening her family. Of course, Mitchie doesn't have knowledge of this intricacy, and Alex has no desire to share it either. That is why her response is sharp, short, and brutally simple. "Let. It. Go."

"You can't keep doing this Alex! One day he is going to really hurt us!" Mitchie pleads her case desperately as she dumps another pile of clothes into her luggage case.

"You are missing one small fact." Alex replies with great infuriation. "He already did hurt me. Didn't you see?" She points at the dull red mark decorating her cheek.

"I'm sorry that happened to you Alex. Truly I am, but pissing him off isn't going to make our situation better." Mitchie tries making Alex see the reasoning in her words. Seeing Mark so upset makes her very uneasy. She won't admit it, but Mark is reminiscent of what happened with her father. A small, but important detail that strongly continues to influence how she acts, and how she expects others to act around her.

"Look! You don't know anything! Just shut up and leave me be!" Alex is fuming. "I don't tell you how to live your life. Shut up and let me live mine." Further along then Mitchie, Alex piles in the last items into her bag before shutting it tight, zipping it shut. "I'll see you in the limo."


	10. Chapter 10: Flight of Discoveries

**I know it has been awhile since I updated this story. Things have been pretty rough for me. A chronic condition I've been struggling to deal with for the last few years has come back with a vengeance. The meds aren't working that well either. I've been too sick and extremely depressed since most activities I've taken for granted I either can't do at all or have to severely limit. As a result I'm not going to give any timelines for my next update. All I can say is I hope it will be a lot sooner then this release took.**

**Thank you to everyone who has alerted this story. And a HUGE thanks to those who review! Those really make me smile! So please push the button on this chapter too!**

**If you like WoWP and are looking for something different check out my other story and drop me a message or review. I'd love to know what you think! **

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**Chapter 10**

The limousine is one of the larger models. While the width isn't impressive, and the length isn't that much beyond what could be considered ordinary for a stretch vehicle. The exterior too is a typical drab black, but the interior is luxurious. Mark may be known for being a diabolical tyrant, but he does understand the idea of lavish living. All of the cars in his fleet are highly specialized. Every single one, from the freight trucks, to the company cars, each is embellished with the latest technologies needed to best accomplish they're given duties. In this case, showing off the predominant figures inside by investing perverse sums of money to ensure that anything and everything is accessible. Large screen televisions, monitors, computers, surround sound, couches, refrigerators, and have all somehow found a happy home. And that is only the limousine. If they are categorized as extravagant then the tour buses, and private planes are mobile palaces.

The solitary basis Mitchie, and Alex are in the present vehicle, and not something larger because their destination is the airport. There a private jet is fully prepared and at the terminal. Of course none of this matters to Alex in the least. She is unhappily lying across one of the couches. Noise canceling headphones dutifully adorn her head. Her eyes are angrily glued to a frequently flickering television screen whose channels change every second or two.

Mitchie is doing the same having long given up trying to reason with the other girl. Her numerous attempts to resolve the lingering animosity failing. Alex refuses to even offer the simple courtesy of looking at Mitchie when she talks. Seconds thereafter the headphones cover her ears, and completely muffle whatever words are spoken. The action thoroughly confuses, and hurts Mitchie, and the reason is not simply that she is being shut out. The animosity is a gesture that strikes within the core of her personality. The conflicts with her father allow Mitchie to see past the psychological masks Alex dons to defend the inner core of sanctum. Due to this first hand insight, being the observer to another struggling through the same challenges is heartbreaking. Infinitely complicating matters is that unlike the admittedly few people she has seen wearing such disguises none are continually nearby. Those people are strangers. At worst Alex is a roommate, at best a friend. That automatically doubles the incentive to help; a trait that has developed long ago, and remains integral to her spirit.

In a similar fashion the hostility Alex demonstrates is a trait she too has learned to utilize. In her former forgotten life as a carefree teen this misunderstood, unrestrained energy come to light in the countless pranks, devious jokes, and strategic plans for her own personal gain. While many individuals have labeled the middle Russo many things, from deviant, to stupid, to fiendish, to sister, to friend, at heart though is a highly empathic, intense, curious girl. What Mark represents is a threat not just to her sanity, but also to her enigmatic heart, the attributes Alex embraces uniquely as her own are all under attack. Alex is on the verge of being broken. Her personality is hanging in the balance, tilting tantalizingly close between the light, and dark.

The shadows are a scary place indeed to dwell. Once one is given a sample of the lifestyle seldom few are able to escape, the labyrinth of the overwhelming destruction of all those qualities that represent the best of humankind. In this maze of anguish the darkness is forever, and rays of hope exceedingly rare. Conceptually on some level of sub-consciousness Alex is more aware of all of these facets than even Mitchie. The trouble is just that, the information remains imprisoned in an area of her brain that has very low levels of influence. A hint here or there, a nudge or push on this topic or that. Nothing of major importance ever leaves this level of awareness.

The tragedy in the entire situation is that Alex likely does not fathom the allusions for her future. She is too focused on the constant daily torments. Day after day they whittle, and chip away at her resolve until nothing is left, but an automaton devoid of expression, incapable of affection, and no perception of kindness. She has remained under Mark's rule for far too long. His attacks are no longer being easily fended off. Instead they frequently penetrate battered walls, and tired, weakened resistance. Out of sheer necessity Alex is withdrawing into an impenetrable keep. One that once sealed is permanent, blocking not only all hostiles, but also allies and friends alike.

Mitchie may be the antithesis of Mark but to Alex the risk is much too great. Alex cannot allow Mitchie to be knowledgeable about her past. To begin to address one demon is to open Pandora's box. All of the troubles of the past will merge with the present to create a storm of confusion, and radical change. Impossible to predict with no guarantee of the end results being positive, Alex refuses to take the miniscule chance of something so dramatic going so tragically wrong. She is far more comfortable living in the Hell that she knows rather than a new, strange one that is void of all the commonalities that allow her pitiful existence to continue day, after day.

That is the reason neither girl speaks to one another during the entire trip to the airport. This continues all the way through the security checkpoints, and even on to the plane. The ride, much as it was in the vehicle remains largely quiet too. This may only partially be attributed to the bastard Mark having made the decision to tag along in the musician's compartment instead of up front. Aside from hushed pleasantries Mitchie, and Alex go out of their way to secretly avoid one another. Unfortunately the attempt does not go unrecognized.

Mark does not care why. He does not care how. He makes this conclusion based on the movement of Michie towards the bathroom, a trek that causes her to pass Alex's seat. Mitchie waves to the other girl and in exchange receives a dangerous glare. Not that he has any desire to interfere, much the contrary. He is, in a word, glad that the hostility between the two girls seems to be present. That is a facet that bodes well in his favor. As far as he is concerned the greater the conflict between the two of them the less trouble they will give to him in return. After all if they are so focused on each other that is less time to devise new schemes that give him migraines. Content that the two other are suffering and satisfied that all is well in his world he allows the constant hum of the plane engines to lull him into a deep slumber.

* * *

_Eighteen-year-old Mark ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The sun decided to have never come out to play. The grey-black clouds are thick swirling torrents. Carried by the maddening winds that happily propel fat raindrops on to everything, soaking mansion, machine and man alike. That is why he was running now. Running into his house at full speed. The umbrella a mess of twisted steel fragments after the wind easily sundered the metal and thin protective fabric. Breathing hard he closed the door and tossed the useless item into the trash bin. Water poured off his clothing and hair on to the otherwise impeccable marble tiles._

"_Mark. Get changed and meet me in the office." John, his father sternly said. The voice is one that Mark recognized as one that leaves no room for argument._

"_Yes sir," he responded before heading off towards his bedroom already peeling off drenched clothing along the way. Quickly he used a towel to dry himself as best as he can before grabbing fresh jeans, and a shirt, putting them on before going to the office._

_He knocked twice before automatically entering. His father is sitting at his huge desk. A piece of furniture designed to intimidate. For the most part it does as designed, but Mark was immune. He has been in here far too many times, known his father and how he operated and thought for him to be concerned about such pettiness. That is little consolation because it is readily obvious that he is in for quite a lecture. His father's eyes are blazing as Mark takes a seat. _

"_Your late." The statement is simple. Demanding a simple response._

"_Yes." Mark shrugged. "Couldn't be helped."_

"_We shall see." He paused. "Care to explain what took you so long to return home? You were expected hours ago._

Crap!_ "I was held up. It couldn't be avoided." Mark's response is strong, his voice non-wavering. _

"_Hmm…. well you know I was keeping tabs on you boy." _

Double crap!_ He could have chosen to maintain a neutral expression but that leaves him vulnerable. Instead he decided on outrage. "You were spying on me? Why? You don't even trust your son?"_

"_Why should I? You didn't do as you were told." _

SHIT! How did he find out?_ That happened today! Mere hours beforehand! "I did the best I could! What more do you want?" Mark somehow avoided raising his voice._

"_Tell me what you were supposed to do. Do it now so I can determine whether you made an honest mistake or are just too damn stupid to be of use." _

_Those words stung worse then any real injury. Mark physically winced in pain at the verbal assault but he doesn't let the anxiety show. "You put me in charge of the buyout operations for the vocal company __**Camp Songs**__. _

_He gestured obviously expecting more. "Keep going."_

"_You wanted me to acquire the company," he counted on his fingers starting with the thumb. "Dissolve the executive board," another finger, "and then shutter all of their operations." One more finger rises. "And lastly to fire all of their employees nationwide and to sell the remaining properties to the highest bidders at auction," the last raised digit he physically touched with the other hand._

"_Good then you aren't stupid. How about explaining why you couldn't even accomplish this meagerly task?" John presented Mark with nothing but a gaze that reflected nothing but professionalism, patience and pure utter seriousness. His hands are devotedly clasped together upon the desk. Every mannerism was strictly routine and official. One might even think of him as the stereotypical executive suite that everyone despised. Unfortunately that isn't true. Not because the description doesn't fit but due to the fact his personality was just that. One that lived, breathed, and basked in corporate life. _

_Mark isn't easily intimidated but the stare his father was offering was not something he has ever quite gotten used too. That is, his father sizing him up in the blink of a second, identifying successes as readily as failures. This background originated from a proficiency at the stock market and skill at hostile takeovers. Both allowed John to have amassed quite a fortune. Mark despite coming from a wealthy, politically influential, and hugely successful line of businessman has little to his name. _

_His father was ruthless in his tutelage of his son. Demanding perfection, punishing anything less. This buyout was the latest in a long series of tests that began at age twelve. They are intended to question not only Mark's negotiating prowess but solidify the point that morality has no place within the business world. It was every man for himself in an arena that has no rules. The stare perturbed him when he was five as much as it did at ten and fifteen, and even still that hasn't changed. Unfortunately, his father was aware of this fact too and utilizes the tool with ruthless effectiveness. Mark's only redeeming quality is that he was John's son. Otherwise he would be considered a lowly lackey, a subordinate, beneath him not worthy of time or consideration. _

_All of this preparation was for the culmination of one single event. Mark following in his father's footsteps, propelling the family business forward into a new generation that combines brute corporate tactics, technology and talent in a way that ensures they are the best, untouchable by all others. That was how they arrived at their current disagreement. _

"_I did! I thought that the cost-to-gain ratio was too high so I decided against finalizing the deal." Mark defended. "It was my choice!"_

"_Yes of course it was your decision." John waved him off dismissively. "But that doesn't change you doing the wrong damn thing!"_

_Mark lost his temper. "What you wanted me to do was just plain wrong!"_

_John smirked. "Really? What did you find was so upsetting?" _

"_We were going to destroy their lives!" Mark exclaimed loudly. "They were a family orientated company! They treated their employees well. Everyone was paid above standards! You wanted to buy them out and ruin everything that they built!"_

_John laughed out loud. "You never stop amazing me boy. How ignorant and pathetic you are. What do you think capitalism means? What do you think being in business means?"_

"_It-"_

"_I wasn't asking for your opinion. Shut up and listen to me," John interrupted without care or pause. "You don't do what is 'nice' or 'right' for the poor saps who happen to suddenly find themselves in the unemployment line. All that matters to you is what it means to the bottom line. If you have to buy stockholder majority and then destroy a flourishing family run operation that has been running for decades so be it. Let them worry about how to feed their sad miserable families because god knows it won't be you. That is how the world works Mark. Get your head out your ass and get on board fast or I'll find someone else to do the job. Get it?"_

"_Yes sir." Mark sighed before standing. "I'm sorry. You're right of course. I'll… I'll work out something."_

Damn kid. All he needed is the right tone of voice and scolding to set him straight. Nothing like a few minutes of time to make a lesson last a lifetime. _"That's the spirit my boy!" John boisterously exclaimed. "This is business one-oh-one, take out your competitors before they pose much of a threat. We can't have their profit sharing and generous benefits package spreading now can we?" He leered down at Mark. "Now go make them an offer they can't refuse before tearing them a new one! I'm sure you'll make me proud! _

"_Yeah, no problem." Mark smiled now reassured by the words of advice. He then finds himself engulfed in a hug before being gently shoved out the door."_

"_And don't come back until you get the job done!"_

* * *

Alex remains still too furious at Mark and lounges back in one of the armchairs. Her foul mood only increases in severity after her oh-so-lovable boss informs Mitchie and her that there isn't actually a concert for several days. Although the intention is never mentioned Alex fully knows that he is orchestrating such an obscene timetable strictly to keep an eye on the pair. The implications are quite extreme, but right now she isn't concerned with such matters.

Instead her gaze is laser sighted on the outside world. The plane is flying high enough so that puffy and whimsical clouds trail lazily below. The scene is picturesque. Light warm Caribbean blue with the soft tuffs of white splattered to generate a feeling of beauty, friendship, and tranquility. Any artist would be able to embrace the inspiration contained therein. Alex, as would any other does not miss the impact of such emotions either.

It is indicative of the hopeful, stunning enthusiasm that she will never experience. All of the creation that nature embellishes upon it's inhabitants, a privilege that each and every individual living organism is capable of enjoying save for the demon known as Alex Russo, the reject, the rebel, the gifted child who followed her dreams only to see her passion tear her life apart. The pain returns in a rush, one emotion cascades into the next. Pain leads to sadness that leads to guilt, and feeding off the agony Alex begins to write. The first words arrive on paper in a strangled torrent of syllables that makes no sense, but soon she starts to find sanity within the ink.

* * *

A highly disappointed and frustrated Michie storms into one of the small private cabins. They are designed primarily for sleeping but that doesn't matter to her. The enclosure offers soundproof privacy and that is what she is seeking. Quickly she picks up the phone and dials Caitlyn's number.

_Caitlyn you had better answer! Please answer! _Michie silently pleads as the ring indicator sounds for the third time. The seconds tick by and each passing moment so does Mitchie's desire for conversation. She futilely tried with Alex but the other girl rebuked each attempt with a few words. Or in the case of the latest attempt refused to acknowledge her existence.

Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes in remembrance. She is about to place the receiver back into its cradle when unexpectedly there is a response.

"Hello?" The voice is weary, breathing hard into the speaker from having had to run to the noisy device to answer it in time.

Mitchie recognizes it instantly to be Caitlyn as relief floods through her body. "Caitlyn!" She squeals loudly, exuberance obvious despite her friend being on the other side of the country.

Instantly Caitlyn sounds energized. Whatever traces of exhaustion disappearing in a flash. "Michie! How goes it? I miss you!"

Suddenly feeling a bit more relaxed that she has her best friend Mitchie stops pacing back and forth and sits down on the bed. "I know! I wish we could! But I'm on a plane to New York right now." She could almost picture the pouting expression on her friends face as the words register. "What took you so long to pick up? I was about to hang up!

Giggling fills Mitchie's ear. "Since when am I not allowed to take a shower?" Caitlyn responds as she leans back on her bed. One fluffy towel wrapped around her body while another adorns her head.

"When you don't answer your phone Gellar!"

"No fair!" Caitlyn pouts. I like being clean thank you very much. Besides! I'm not even dressed yet. That should count for something!"

"Hot!" A rather provocative picture enters Mitchie's mind causing her to smile wryly. "So, when do I get pictures?"

Caitlyn's giggling grows louder. "You don't get any! That's what happens when certain people," she adds emphasis to 'people' for dramatic effect, "don't call their best friend for days on end!"

"That's not fair!" Mitchie gripes. "It isn't like I was going to sell them to the highest bidder or something! I was just gonna keep them as… as… a keepsake!"

"You sure it isn't because you want to fantasize about my hot-ass body?" Caitlyn responds with a smile as she sticks a nearby pillow underneath her head while staring up at the ceiling.

"Aww you discovered my master plan." Mitchie pouts. "No fair!"

"That's what you get for trying to deceive your best friend!"

"Yeah, I suppose that is true." The tone is uncharacteristically subdued and defeated.

"Mitchie? What's wrong?" Caitlyn detects the subtle intonation change in Mitchie's voice. The change happens for the briefest of moments but between the syllables she is able to detect the hints of doubt and sadness.

_Crap! "_Nothing is wrong Cay." She sighs despairingly. The last thing Mitchie wants to do is talk about her troubles. All she really desires is to have a great conversation with her best friend. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you have other things to worry about. I'll be fine"

"Uh huh." All traces of playfulness are gone. Caitlyn is nothing but seriousness. "I don't have anything to be concerned about except my friend being on a plane to New York, calling me at twenty-thousand-something-feet. This same girl also happens to have not called since she first got her gig." She says matter-of-factly. "You better start talking Mitchie because like it or not I do care and do worry."

"Cay." Mitchie pauses as the anxiety of the past few hours catches up to her in a rush. "I… I don't know what to do." The emotions cascade in a rush and burst forward as a sob escapes her throat.

_What happened to her? What could make her so upset? _Caitlyn's sudden intact of breath indicative that she heard everything, she sitting upright on her bed out of concern. The sobs assaulting her eardrums like arrows to her heart. "Mitchie! Mitchie honey, please calm down! Take a few deep breaths and tell me everything!"

Several long moments pass as Mitchie heeds the advice. Though she is able to calm the cries hot tears still freely flow down her cheeks as the volcano of emotions erupts in a fury. "Alex hates me Cay!"

_How can someone hate Mitchie? She is one of the most sensitive, caring people I know. _"I'm sure that isn't true Mitchie." Caitlyn's calm voice reassures. "But you are going to have to back up. Who is Alex?"

"Who is Alex? What kind of question-" Mitchie stops herself mid sentence. Caitlyn couldn't know about the singer. After all, she herself found out not that long ago. "Promise not to tell?"

"Promise. None of this will escape my lips. You know that."

Although Caitlyn can't see her reaction Mitchie lets the barest of smiles to grace her features. "Selena Gomez's name is Alex, Alex Russo."

Caitlyn is speechless. It takes a moment for her to respond and for a minute Mitchie isn't even sure she is still on the line. "Wow! Oh wow. I always assumed that was her real name."

"I did too Cay. You can't repeat that. Ever! I could get into big trouble for telling you that!" Mitchie says sternly.

"You know I won't M." Caitlyn asks genuinely curious. "What does she have to do with you though?"

Mitchie holds back the cries that threaten to emerge once again. "We got into an argument."

"Sounds like a bit more then just a simple fight."

Biting down on her lip Mitchie recounts her earlier fight when they were packing. At Caityln's insistence she also reveals how Mark mistreats them both. Caitlyn seems particularly energized at this revelation. She swears quite adamantly that she is going to cut open Mark's stomach, pull out his intestines and light them on fire all the while he is flayed alive working from the head down. That in particular makes Mitchie happy. She even laughs at her friend's outrage.

Caitlyn though is far more worried then she lets on. She is one of a very select few people who is privy to Mitchie's past. Numerous occasions saw a torn, battered and desperate Mitchie cling to her for understand and comfort. As a result she can't help but feel a bit protective. To think that Mitchie may be in a situation anywhere near as similar as that with her father makes her blood boil.

Thankfully though, Mitchie is oblivious to this fact – one benefits of a telephone being not seeing physical expressions - and is feeling much more content. She is on her stomach, phone clenched tightly to her ear as she kicks her feet back and forth.

"What do I do Cay? We can't ignore each other forever."

"No. You can't." Caitlyn is quiet as ponders various options. "However you can't force her to open up to you either as much as you may wish her to do so."

"But I can-" Mitchie starts.

"No." Caitlyn finishes her sentence for her. "You can't help her if she doesn't want it. Look I know you M. You are a very compassionate person and an excellent problem solver. But you can't force Alex into a situation she doesn't want."

The truth stings and as much as Mitchie wants Caitlyn's words to be otherwise she cannot deny that her friend is correct. "Then what do I do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean Cay! Stop playing dumb!" Mitchie gripes while rubbing her forehead in thought. "What do I do with my feelings?" "I can't just shove them underneath a rug and pretend that they don't exist."

Caitlyn has to hold the phone away from her ear at the sudden barrage assaulting her eardrums. "Ok! Ok! You made your point!" Looking back she understands the outburst. It was a rather silly comment. "Why look at the situation as such a negative. Try to turn it all around."

Mitchie's eyes pop open in agitation. _What is she talking about? Why can't I get a straightforward answer for ONCE!_

Caitlyn seems to sense the confusion and responds before Mitchie is able to comment. "So far you haven't done anything but see all the problems. Try to redirect your emotions."

_Why didn't I think about that? _The solution is so simple excitement builds in her voice as she catches on. "You're talking about me writing a song!"

Caitlyn rolls her eyes knowingly. "No, not specifically but if that is what you want to do go for it!

For once in a seemingly long time Mitchie feels at peace. She has a plan and a way to express herself. The playful spirit is alive and burning again. Smiling deviously she decides that it is time to return the favor to Caitlyn for her wonderful suggestion. "Hey Cay?"

"Yeah M?" Caitlyn is relieved at the lack of tension in her friend's voice. It is way overdue. "What's up now?" Nervousness and reluctance in her fills her voice. _Please Mitchie, please be ok. Not another problem._

"Why haven't you gotten dressed yet?"

"What are you talking about M?" Caitlyn bolts upright with a start. "I am too..." That is when she realizes in her surprise and haste her towel has come undone and is now pooled at her feet. "…Dressed."


	11. Chapter 11 Songs of Understanding

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place and/or Camp Rock or any characters from the show. I do not own by songs by Lunatica or For Selena and Sin. Of course, this is a work of fiction.**

**Unfortunately I'm still quite sick and as a result this chapter took far, FAR longer then I ever dreamed to complete. I also rapidly learned that although I could picture the characters and events in my head easily communicating them sufficiently on paper was incredibly difficult. I don't want to think about how may pages of edits and drafts I went through before I was able to come up with the final version. This easily ranks as one of the most difficult things I've ever tried to write. Period. Hopefully I was successful in what I wanted to accomplish.**

**So if you have a few minutes I would really, REALLY appreciate reviews on this one.**

**The songs used in this are: **_How Did it Come to This_ by Lunatica** & **_Confide in Me_ by For Selena and Sin** I would highly recommend searching youtube for them because later descriptions are tied closely to the songs and will likely make more sense if you listen.  
**

**Special thanks to a couple of people for there awesome encouragement and advice: Ad3m, stepsteptrip, AnnieMJ, damien. This one is for you guys.**

**The chapter starts out a bit slow but picks up.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

The plane arrives in New York way behind schedule. Despite being a private flight a layover was planned in advance in Chicago to stop for fuel. Another truth is that several executives close to Mark are using the opportunity to vacation with their families. Once the tour concludes the plane will make the same stop and pick them back up. Of course, all of this is a service Mark is all too happy to provide. Free of charge. Some might consider this a bad business practice but he has discovered otherwise. Happy employees equates to better dedication, efficiency and loyalty to the brand. In this case his company _Frontier Media_.

The unfortunate truth is that someone must of course suffer for his 'generosity'. There is no coincidence that the hugely public figures representing his organization, people like Mitchie and Alex are the ones who endure the most intolerable conditions. He is taking quite a chance that one may someday ruin his spotless reputation but he thoroughly ensures that if he is destroyed the company, and everyone else below him does too.

No one person is indispensable and all actions are linked.

It is unlikely Mitchie and especially Alex even understands this relationship. This is particularly true since Alex at every opportunity tries to irritate and upset Mark. In the public eye Alex, or rather Selena maintains her elegance, grace and respectful nature. Behind closed doors the dark cloud of frustration and agitation reins true.

Mark discovers this on several occasions. The conflicts becoming so embroiled that Mitchie is sure the two have come to physical blows. As a result when they arrive at the studio she isn't surprised at all when both go in opposite directions. Alex doesn't even bother to unload her luggage.

This leaves Mitchie alone save for the stone-faced vehicle driver. He seems quite content to stay right where he is. Although out of the corner of her eye she seems that he is angling the various mirrors to ensure that she always remains in his field of vision. Ordinarily this kind of behavior would freak Mitchie out but at the moment she is too weary to care. She knows that in the back of limousine is a mountain of luggage. Sorting through all of them is not a chore she is going to cherish.

Even so she walks to the rear of the car, the trunk already open and raised to expose the various bags and containers. Mitchie reaches in and grabs the two nearest, placing them on the ground. Obviously they aren't hers but they are in the way nonetheless. Focused on the task at hand Mitchie is startled when someone speaks to her.

"Hey there!" Mitchie jumps in surprise before turning to face the person. "I'm sorry I startled you," he begins. "Demi, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." The voice is familiar although she cannot remember a name that matches the blonde boy in front of her."

"Look. I owe you an apology. I didn't know Mark was going to treat you guys like that back there. You seem nice. You don't deserve it." He extends his hand out in greeting. "I'd like to start over if you would let me."

Now Mitchie remembers! He is the one that informed Alex and her that Mark wanted to see them in the office prior to leaving. "No need too. What happened happened. Nothing you could have done to stop it." She smiles while shaking the hand. "You're... Brendan?"

"Close, Brandon." He moves to Mitchie's side and picks up a large stuffed duffel bag that is bursting at the seams. "Just the same thank you Demi. I know Mark can be… difficult at times."

"Please call me Mitchie. Demi is my stage name. Do that and we'll call it even."

Hurt flashes in Brandon's eyes as he nods realizing the gravity of his error. "Definitely."

So what are you doing here?" Mitchie asks before grabbing another piece of luggage, this one she recognizes as her own so she sets it to the side. "I doubt you came out here just to apologize to me."

"No, your right. But I ran into Alex. Or rather she ran into me." He assists Mitchie in lifting an especially heavy piece. "Cursed me out for a moment before storming off. So I assumed you'd arrived with her and made my way here. To see if there was anything I could do to help. From the way Alex looked I take it the trip wasn't very pleasant."

"No. I suppose you're right." Mitchie answers while rubbing her eyes with her palms. "They were fighting most of the way. I tried to keep to myself and out of the way."

Brandon nods. "Probably the best way to deal with it. They may not see it but Mark and she aren't so different. Both are so incredibly stubborn and headstrong neither knows when to back down." He sighs as he corrects himself. "Actually that isn't right, Mark never does even if he is wrong. Admittedly that isn't very often."

"You seem to care a lot about Mark," Mitchie observes quietly. If the assumption is correct then Brandon isn't someone she wants to be hanging around very often.

Apparently he catches the suspicion in her voice.

"No, not at all. He can go jump off a bridge for all I care. What I am saying is that you have to be careful how you act and what you say when your around him. Alex I think understands that but can't allow him to get the upper hand, so she fights tooth and nail." He turns to face Mitchie, his eyes meeting hers. "I can't stand Mark. Everything about him I loathe, especially how he treats wonderful people like Alex and you. But I can't allow those feelings control me. I respect him, but out of fear. I'm only here because of Alex and the rest of the band. Nothing more. Otherwise I would have quit long ago."

Mitchie is quiet as she absorbs all of what Brandon is telling her. Suddenly the implications for Alex and her actions become much more legitimate. "Fear of what?"

"Everything." Brandon shrugs. "Sooner or later you will find out."

"Why is Alex so scared of him," Mitchie inquires. She doubts he knows but it can't hurt to ask.

He shakes his head sadly. "I wish I knew Mitchie, I really do. But even if I did I doubt I could tell you. Those kinds of secrets are not things that can be openly shared."

Mitchie is shocked by Brandon's direct integrity and moral beliefs. Whatever feelings of mistrust are rapidly dying as her opinion of the boy dramatically reverses. "I suppose you're right."

Brandon smiles at her as he finds another piece of luggage with Mitchie's name on it. "Come on, enough of this depressing talk. Lets get this stuff unpacked and grab some food. I'll be happy to show you around too if you'd like."

The darkness evident on Mitchie's face disappears. She brightens considerably before blushing as her stomach growls. Reminding both that she hasn't eaten in some time. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

The pair unloads the limousine and upon Mitchie's insistence stack Alex's duffel bag and suitcases along side Mitchie's on a dolly they find. As soon as they finish the remaining bags and boxes are whisked away by another work crew. By then Brandon and Mitchie are gone. Hungry they visit the cafeteria. To her joy and glee the food isn't lousy or mediocre but good. Brandon agrees although he is constantly defending his hoard of French fries from Mitchie's wondering fingers. No matter how hard the boy tries she seems to be able to outsmart his defenses.

After dinner and through all the giggles and laughs Brandon takes Mitchie on a brief tour of the facility. This includes a trip showing her where her room resides within the monstrous complex. The sight of a vacant second bed in the room is no surprise. Parallel against the other wall there is ample space for two. Given the additional walk-in closets and even a bathroom the room is huge, considerably larger then what the pair has in Los Angeles. Not only spacious but also luxurious. Mitchie squeals loudly in delight when she finds that the bathroom is lavish too.

Brandon notices Mitchie's elation and leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossed with a wry grin on his face. "I take it you're happy."

Mitchie nods enthusiastically. "This is beautiful! I've never seen a room decked out like this! That bathroom is incredible!"

The shower even has a TV and speaker system embedded in the wall to go along with the multiple water jets. That is forgetting the huge, entirely separate Jacuzzi style tub sitting mere feet away. All she is able to think about for the moment is how great those warm streams would feel especially after such a long nerve wracking flight. Regretfully the logical portion of her brain wins over pleasure and her feet sadly move away.

His eyes follow Mitchie as she paces too and from looking around and testing this and that. Warm water fills a cupped hand as she tests the silver faucet. Feeling his gaze she stops to look back at him. "What?"

"Nothing." Somehow Brandon's growing grin gives him away.

"Uh huh… spill it." Mitchie glares at him suspiciously for a moment before he relents."

"Ok, here it goes," he breathes in dramatically before continuing. "I was just thinking that I don't see what the big deal is. It is just a bathroom."

That is blasphemy! Mitchie's mouth open and closes for a moment as she tries to comprehend words. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. "How can you SAY that? I mean!" She makes a sweeping motion with her arm to highlight the room. "Look at it!"

"Yes I see. I just don't see what the big deal is. I mean a bathroom is a bathroom. All you really need is a shower and toilet." He shrugs against the wooden frame as best he can."

"Boys!" Mitchie huffs in pure frustration, throwing up her hands too for good measure. "I swear all of you live under rocks!"

"No, I just don't see the point." Brandon responds coolly purposely ignoring how flustered Mitchie is becoming. "Why drench yourself in your own wet dirt?"

Mitchie is too occupied to realize that her face is indeed reddening as her emotions gain control. "Have you ever taken a bath before?"

"Not since I was like nine." His features remain serene although he is growing increasingly fond of teasing Mitchie.

"Well there you go! Go take a long soaking bath and see then come back and talk to me." Mitchie replies knowingly.

"Sorry can't do that." Brandom smiles charmingly at her.

"Why not!" She demands while making her own stance match his.

"Well, for starters," he holds in a knowing laugh, "we don't have a tub."

"You don't have a tub?" Mitchie's voice is incredulous. In her view that is a very simple, very necessary item. "You really do live like apes."

Brandon laughs and soon she is too. He approaches before drooping a sociable arm around her shoulders. "Yeah there probably is some truth to that. But at least I'm friendly and not furry!"

Mitchie's shakes her head and grins. "Your hopeless you know that?"

"Yup, so I've been told."

"Now since you don't like baths get out! I need to unpack my stuff anyways!" Mitchie playfully drags a still laughing Brandon towards the door.

"No fair!" He complains while mockingly struggling as he migrates across the floor.

"Life isn't fair." Mitchie smiles at him before shoving him through the door.

"Later Mitchie!" His voice echoes from behind the now closed wooden barrier.

Eager to inflict the last word Mitchie laughingly pounces. "Later Bran-Flakes!"

"Damn you Alex!"

* * *

Mitchie isn't quite sure what to make of Brandon. Shaking her head in an odd combination of confusion and intrigue carefully she sorts the various bags and plastic cases. As she places Alex's on the floor beside her bed Mitchie realizes she is sad and hurt. And despite Brandon's obvious charisma the day's events are catching up to her. Mitchie doesn't like fighting. She doesn't like seeing people in pain either. If only she could understand. If only there was some way for her to connect with the stubborn singer.

Mitchie sighs in resignation. She cannot truly blame the other girl either. The two haven't exactly known each other for the longest time. It is a mystery why she even opened up to Alex about her past in the first place. And that wasn't even the full story either.

Distracted, disjointed and disgruntled by her thoughts Mitchie grabs the blue spiral bound notebook that had been staring at her maddeningly for the past few minutes. "Can't hurt to try," she mutters thinking out loud. Now she only has to remember how to get to the studio practice rooms.

With the assistance of a paper map Brandon provided earlier she is able to navigate the labyrinth she calls a home. Several long hallways and corners later she arrives at the place.

A series of five doors each has an illuminated status box above them. Three of them are grey and off. For what reason Mitchie doesn't know. One is red, it's 'In Use' message clearly visible. With notebook in hand she opens the last remaining door, the one with a green light. Automatically the light inside turn on as does the status of the room.

Inside she is pleased to discover a myriad variety of instruments: pianos, keyboard synthesizers, drum kit, acoustic, electric and bass guitars. Using a provided music stand she sets down her notebook. Flipping quickly to the end, her most recent work from on the plane.

The scribbled handwriting looks back at Mitchie, pleading for melodies, rhythms; a voice that will bring them to life. Reading over her previous work Mitchie begins to hum, picking up a guitar before pushing down a button on the synthesizer waiting for the device to power up. Headphones are the last piece of technology to adorn her head before she is lost in the enigmatic passion that is music.

Unbeknownst to Mitchie the other practice room is occupied by Alex. In similar manner she is seeking an outlet for the agony of the day.

For the first twenty minutes or so of locking herself in the enclosure Alex does nothing much pace. Occasionally a violent fist collides with the wall causing a rush of sharp pain to remind her that she is still human. To her such trivialities do not matter or the increasingly bruised or swollen knuckles. All that is important is finding some way to gather her thoughts, her feelings into something tangible. A form of expression that is being spoken by Alex and not the puppet named Selena. A way to be herself in a way that won't allow her to be hurt again by the one man she despises most.

More minutes pass as she calms her nerves. She ignores the protests of movement in her knuckles caused by her previous out lashes. Taking a deep breath she sits. Preparing the synthesizer in front of her by attaching a music stand on to the synth before positioning her small notebook into one of the clips to keep her page. As does Mitchie she uses headphones not to prevent sound from escaping but to ensure that she is producing the highest possible product.

Both girls' fingers dance across keyboards. Rhythms and melodies are tried, rejected, spliced and dissected together. Harmonies and beats clash and then combined. Lyrics become no longer static but living, evolving entities. Words scribbled out and replaced.

Lacking band mates or drums the synthesizer becomes invaluable. Easily able to reproduce anything the pair would ever need snares, bass and cymbals all are introduced into the organized cacophony. The fuels for all the inspiration are emotions that have been piling on top of one another for days. Neither realizes that they are mirroring the others' action.

Little by little their respective songs come together. Old recorded pieces of nonsense previously recorded save time and aggravation as they find home in these pieces. Time has no meaning. Hours pass by like seconds as they become enthralled with their work.

Alex reaches the point where she believes she is finished. Taking off the headphones she rearranges several of the plugs so that the arranged speaker amps throughout the room are fully engaged. She also grabs a microphone stand and sets it up so she has easy access to that in addition to playing the piano. She runs a weary hand through her long hair, takes a deep breath and starts.

Mitchie completes her songs a mere minute or two apart from Alex. Wearily she disconnects the headphones and rubs at her tired eyes with the palms of her hands. The debate about whether to sleep or not is becoming very much a one-sided argument. Accustom to her own work the alien sound of a piano not her own startles her.

She is tired and is considering going to bed when sound permeates through the heavily padded wall. A piano backed up with a gentle drumbeat. The tone is ominous, foreboding. Mitchie listens intently as the first words are spoken. With the lack of instruments the voice fantastically stands out.

_You left me broken  
Torn up inside_

As she identifies the singer as Alex she realizes with a sick feeling that she is describing herself. All of the turmoil and chaos that has enveloped her life so far.

_And the sky has darkened  
Like I'm buried alive_

Mystified Mitchie continues to listen. The simplistic style of a select few instruments in the background and voice in the foreground is a powerful combination. Beautiful. Determined. The two sounds weave and tangle, one growing stronger while the other fades. Mitchie's eyes widening in shock and horror as she begins to fathom the terrible conflicts embroiling Alex.

_This scar won't stop to bleed  
But I can't make a sound_

The lyrics find powerful purchase within the confines of Mitchie's mind. The intensity of the vocals is like a punch into her gut as it registers what she is saying. How utterly broken and desperate her seemingly invulnerable friend is becoming.

_Try to say what I feel  
But nothing comes out_

Never in Mitchie's wildest dreams did she imagine that Alex had such a side to her. Mitchie's all-to-near past returns with a vengeance. Memory after lost memory surfaces. Causing her to relive the very emotions Alex is so vividly vocally painting.

_How did it come to this?  
I'm trapped behind these walls_

The barriers Mitchie remembers have not been resolved. For years she has been searching for lost answers. Trying to figure out what went so terribly wrong with her father. The prison of self imposed doubt, blame, sadness and hatred mixing together to form cement that Mitchie cannot overcome. Tears escape the corners of her eyes, the song becoming transcendental, happening to be far more then an expression of just one battered life.

_I got no air to breathe  
It's like I'm under water_

Each word, each palm, each kick, each shove, each scream by her father is another foot deeper into a bottomless pool that is filled with broken promises and false hope. For the first time Mitchie understands the powerful rule Mark has upon Alex. She is floundering, struggling to remain above the waves of anguish that are tearing her apart.

_Can you hear me?  
My silent scream  
Can you hear me?  
My silent scream_

Worse then the physical and emotional torment is the sheer effort used to maintain the illusion of happiness. The mask of assurance covers incredible scars from view but trap the pain inside. Each day grows harder to cope. The world cherishes the beautiful blue water at the surface but refuses to acknowledge the submerged body struggling for breathe. Alex is pleading for understanding, for someone to recognize that she exists beyond just the shell of a person she is becoming.

The song shifts. The tone becomes more serious yet somehow lighter, more positive in mood. Subtle hints of the piano play in conjunction with the drums to create a sense of determination and courage.

_Try to reach the surface  
But something pulls me down_

_And there's a voice within  
Dying to come out  
In the corners of my head_

The instruments mimic the volatile emotions with the piano emerging out of the background. Every note is distinctly heard. Separate they are meaningless sounds. Combined they are formidable. The comparison in Mitchies' mind is blatant. A single event, a single day she could overcome, but cumulatively she is weakened, broken down by her father. Alex is a beautiful mosaic that is being taken apart piece, by painful piece in front of Mark's oblivious, uncaring eyes.

_The silence is so loud  
How did it come to this?_

Once more the instruments shift. The strings of an electric guitar come forth unexpectedly, overpowering and overbearing. The direct notation reminiscent of so many nights of crying herself to sleep, praying for the sun to rise and take the nightmares away. She remembers the first day of her arrival in the Dark Room. That same look of startled fear, uninhibited vulnerability captured on Alex's face, and forever in Mitchie's mind.

_I'm trapped behind these walls  
I got no air to breathe  
It's like I'm under water_

The all too familiar verse continues to have more and more impact each time Mitchie hears it. She is able to sense, to feel the sheer desperation Alex is in. The drums seem to echo this sentiment by, at a several crucial junctures literally hammer the fact into Mitchie's eardrums.

_Can you hear me?  
My silent scream  
Can you hear me?  
My silent scream_

As the chorus once again returns Mitchie gives in to her emotions and sobs. The misery building in her chest, gripping her heart like a vice, squeezing tight. Just when she believes she is going to break apart the melody changes again. Every line comes back with an edge, a distinctiveness that isn't present before. The beat somehow appears lighter, more hopeful.

_Calling for you  
But I can't break through  
Will I be rescued  
Before it's too late?_

In those days of intense agony one person emerges as a beacon of hope. Caitlyn, her dearest friend, does her best to contain the shattered Mitchie. However skilled though, Caitlyn is only able to try to pull a flailing Mitchie from the pits of despair. Plenty of secrets remain trapped in the black-still depths, locked away in her heart and soul. Apparently what Alex has isn't enough because she is still begging for someone to intervene. That is when Mitchie's heart twists again _she doesn't have anyone else._

On perfect cue the instruments quiet, staying almost silent save for the beat of the drum. When, after a second all sound. The harmony reasserts itself forcefully in perfect conjunction with the one question, the only question that matters, the only question that continues to be unanswered.

_How did it come to this?  
I'm trapped behind these walls  
I got no air to breathe  
It's like I'm under water_

With the final verse Mitchie finds herself at a loss for thoughts. The constant thundering intensity of the simplistic trio of instruments, drums, piano guitar meld with her voice to generate a pairing that is impossible to miss. Mitchie is crying for the pain of her childhood. She is crying for the loss of her father. She is crying because Alex is touching a forbidden part of her soul. She is crying because she has found commonality in the worst possible ways.

_Can you hear me?  
My silent scream  
Can you hear me?  
My silent scream_

As the piano quiets and the music fades off into nothingness Mitchie takes a minute to wipe away the tears that are flowing down both cheeks. Everything seems so much more clear, the vulnerability, the helplessness, the uncertainty of not knowing where to turn. And most of all the overwhelming sadness, confusion and guilt of having a life not in your control, subject to the whim of someone else.

Her fellow singer is no longer a mystery.

In a rare demonstration of her incredible character Mitchie is offered a glimpse into the mind, soul and heart of the beautiful Alex Russo. Where others label Alex a rebel, an outcast and troublemaker Mitchie does not.

She sees an aurora of brilliance surrounding the talented and deceptively sensitive girl. From her past experience she has been in Alex's shoes. Alex is acting out not because she wants too, but because she has no choice. Supportive outlets such as family, friends, hobbies, and activities all have been severely repressed.

True, this is partly by her fault but Mark by maintaining dictatorial control on all others forces Alex into another level of desperation.

She isn't fighting Mark. She is fighting to maintain her personality. She is fighting against a system that wants to allow her to wither as broken and submissive.

Mitchie also understands a dramatic difference between Alex and her. Alex does not cry. She does not allow others to see her as weak. She swallows down pain and sadness, refusing to acknowledge their existence. Of course, they do not disappear magically. Eventually she is overwhelmed and the emotions find release.

In an amazing rare occurrence, tonight is one such night.

The screams, the cries, the pleas for change finding an audience in the one person who is capable of not only understanding their importance, but returning the message Alex is craving to hear.

Her mind made up Mitchie puts her plan into action, reconnecting her guitar and hitting a button on the synthesizer. Everything is set up and ready to go. With the microphone plugged back in all she has to do is begin to sing. Ignoring the tears that still appear she takes a deep breath and begins to play.

Alex is packing away the last of the equipment. She sits down on the stool wearily, crouching forward so she can rest her elbows on her knees, and chin on her hands. She is happy her song is done but at the same time disappointed because all it did is leave a horrible pit in the bottom of her stomach. Somehow she feels worse now after venting then she previously did. She is about to resume rolling up the last bundle of cords when the sounds of a synthesizer not her own come forth.

The tones are simple, but drawn out. They almost mimic a church organ in purpose and dignity with the glorious nature of the notes. Although not soft they aren't loud either giving Alex pause. She doesn't recognize the song. Intrigued she continues to listen.

The abrupt introduction of an electric guitar causes her to jump. The sudden, short notes contrasting deeply with the long tones seconds before. The bass richly booming giving added life into what promises to be an already dramatic song.

_I stand in the distance  
I view from afar_

Alex is taken back by what the opening lyrics are. Each word is clear, distinct. Whoever is singing obviously seems to be have been eavesdropping on her performance. That makes her blood boil. Should she march into the other room and begin to curse out the other person? Or would she rather wait until later to kill them, preferably on stage with an audience.

_Should I offer some assistance?  
Should it matter who you are?_

The subject matter becomes readily apparent, the singer too. Combined the two collide in an affect that makes Alex feel like she has been shot. The idea of ceasing Mitchie's life is forgotten in an instant.

_We all get hurt by love  
And we all have our cross to bear  
But in the name of understanding now  
Our problems should be shared_

As the first verse concludes Alex is freely sobbing. The message is overwhelming. The mystical voice punctures through the void in Alex's heart, flooding the soul with a sense of crushing relief. For once she isn't alone. For once someone fathoms that she isn't a demon from the depths of Hell. For the first time in what seems like forever life isn't so mysteriously terrifying and ingrained in hopelessness.

_Confide in me, Confide in me  
Confide in me, Confide in me_

Mitchie's voice rises in volume. Sheer intent, driven purpose, sincerity laced between each syllable. The question's posed in the first verse are answered with perfect clarity and Alex's heart twists.

The desire to have a confident is overwhelming. Justin for the longest time was always her rock, a place of undeniable strength, support and loving friendship. Endless feuds and squabbles between the pair somehow strengthened their relationship when with most others would shred it to pieces.

_I can keep a secret_

_And throw away the key_

Alex gives up trying to stop the tears that grow in frequency. Mitchie's act of friendship reaching deep into the tattered, frayed nerves that encompass the lost girl that is Alex Russo. The promise of offering the same reassurance, the peace of mind that her brother once represented brings a sense of clarity and sincerity to the torrents of emotion running rampant through her heart.

_But sometimes to release it  
Is to set out children free_

Whatever relief gathered moments before disappears. Alex's sobs escalate into full cries. She cannot deny the lyrics incredible meaning. They penetrate into the furthest recesses of her mind, into territory where she is afraid to tread.

She must give up her childhood. She cannot allow herself to be trapped anymore in a past that is filled by deceit, lies and mistrust. It is a land where thoughts of inferiority rule.

_We all get hurt by love_

_And we all have our cross to bear_

_But in the name of understanding now  
Our problems should be shared_

The words are unmistakable. The intonation unforgettable, the realization striking Alex's brain with such physical force she feels nauseated. Mitchie is seemingly able to predict exactly what Alex needs to hear. Alex left her family for stupid, childish, immature reasons.

She hurt those who cared about her the most. And Mitchie doesn't care.

She doesn't care about her troubled past, none of those terrible flaws matter. Instead of shunning the devastated Russo she is extending a hand of undeniable support and friendship. She is offering to be the confidant that Alex has been striving to find for so long.

_Confide in me, Confide in me  
Confide in me, Confide in me_

Alex weeps freely as she buries her face in her hands when the electric guitar begins a solo. The long, church-like tones return as well to generate a mourning, remorseful, reflective state of thinking. The melody is purposely dark and forces Alex to consider her actions. As the depression increases to where she thinks she cannot take anymore it Mitchie resumes her singing. Her powerful voice obliterates the murky confusion in Alex's mind with crystal clear precision and focus.

_We all get hurt by love  
And we all have our cross to bear_

_But in the name of understanding now_

With the lyrics returning Alex is able to find new meaning. She is being hurt by her dream, her passion, and her love of music. She has given up so much already and stands to lose that much more. However hidden between the lines is not an offer of support or hope, but a plead for help. Her eyes snap open with the sudden realization.

_Our problems should be shared_

With the chorus repeating again Alex no longer feels drained. The simple continued promise of companionship is the slight glimmer of light at the end of the midnight black tunnel. For long seconds that seem to stretch through eternity the profound sadness alleviates to give Alex an imbued sense of relief.

No longer is she the small, lost lamb amongst a pack of wolves, Mark and his cronies. She is part of a pair, not alone.

_Confide in me, Confide in me  
Confide in me, Confide in me_

The electric guitar once again makes itself known. The note selection for the harmony is unique. Mitchie pays special attention to this specific segment of the song to highlight the implications. And the significance is not lost on Alex.

_Confide in me, Confide in me  
Confide in me, Confide in me _

Alex continues to cry as the song fades into nothingness. Unlike before though, the tears are not of misery or anguish, but of the future. Of an enlightened age where her personality may expressed and her compatriots free. Her eyes have been wretched wide upon.

No longer is her singing and concerts just about her. No longer are her actions solely affecting herself. The world, her world, is no longer just about a feud between and man and a stubborn teenage girl.

Written between the lines, in minute subtext is a message. Mitchie is struggling to make sense of a situation she does not understand.

She loves her craft. She is beginning to live her dreams. She senses the danger Mark represents but is unable to predict how he may hinder all her efforts. She sees Alex as a complex friend, inherently kind, but frighteningly uncertain when emotionally driven.

Mitchie is offering support. Mitchie is offering to help. Mitchie on the basis of their friendship is pleading for Alex to reciprocate by opening her mind and heart. Mitchie is begging for Alex to share her experiences not for the sake of ridicule or embarrassment, but because she truly believes that for them to have any chance of becoming more then slaves the two must accept each other. And the first step on the long journey is by communication. Not shunning the other out when things grow dark or by rejoicing in solitude when the day is bright and happy, but by taking each challenge, negative or positive in stride together.

Sniffling Alex races to finish the few tasks remaining to clean up the practice room before running back to her, rather their shared room. She is startled to find her possessions neatly standing and stacked beside her bed. Warmth spreads throughout her body at the soft act of kindness.

Carefully she unpacks waiting for Mitchie to return. Although her brain disagrees after earlier a long overdue conversation is unavoidable.

* * *

Alex is finishing putting away the last of her clothing when the door unlocks and Mitchie walks through. Alex glances at her for a moment before placing the last shirt in the drawer. From the redness in the other girl's eyes it is clear she has had a strenuous day too.

"Hi." Mitchie says to Alex noting the rapid way she looks away. Barely decipherable lines of tears still visible.

"Hi." Alex looks up at Mitchie wondering why the other girl is just standing there. "You can come in if you want. This room is just as much yours as it is mine."

Mitchie appeared relieved as she fully enters and sits on the edge of her bed. "I wasn't sure if I should."

Alex shrugs not quite sure what to say in response. The silence is deafening for both girls as they become lost in their individual thoughts once more. Long moments pass before Alex speaks.

"Mitchie?"

"Yeah, Alex?"

"Did you really mean what you sung?" Alex apprehensively asks, stress crossing her features.

Mitchie pretends not to notice the increase of tension. "Every single word Alex. Singing is my passion. What I can't find in conversation I usually am able to express through lyrics." She is thankful she doesn't scream out something rash and is able to keep her voice quiet and in control. "Did you mean what you sung?"

Alex closes her eyes. The pressure in the room builds and until Mitchie half expects Alex to either run out or lie. The two girls eyes meet and in that moment sincerity and honesty win through. "Yes."

"I'm so sorry Alex. I didn't-"

"No. Don't apologize." Alex interrupts briskly. "You have no reason too. How could you have known? It isn't something I like to really broadcast if you haven't already figured it out."

"Yeah. I sort of got that sense from what you were singing. You created a beautiful song you know. You should be proud." Mitchie compliments and she means it too. "You should think about performing it live."

"Live? Are you nuts?" Alex exclaims shocked at such a remark. There is no way she is going to open her deepest secrets to the general public. _No way! Nu-uh! Not happening!_

Mitchie wishes she had a camera to engrave Alex's reaction for all time. The look is rather priceless. "I'm serious! You know how singing is. The lyrics mean different things to different people. No one is going to know exactly how you feel."

"All except for Mark." Disappointment is evident in her voice. Alex doesn't want him to know that he wounded her nearly that badly.

Mitchie frowns. "How can you be so sure?"

"That song is mostly about him Mitchie. He ran through my heart with a sword." Alex, despite her attempts to hold in her emotions starts to sniffle.

"What happened Alex?" Mitchie keeps her voice soft, calm, hoping to soothe the other girl.

The voice that emerges sounds defeated, hushed. "Do you have to know?"

Seeing that this line of conversation isn't making any progress Mitchie crosses the room and sits close to Alex. Gently she lifts up Alex's damp chin with the one hand, turning her head so there eyes meet. Mitchie allows Alex to stare deep beyond the liquid brown of her eyes and into the depth of her soul.

The movement takes Alex off guard and she is helpless to say anything. She is lost in the serenity, the stability and the warmth of the wonderful girl sitting next to her.

Instead of discovering anger, disappointment or regret Alex finds reassurance of all the promises that were hinted of earlier. When the gaze is broken Alex returns to staring at her feet. Not sure where to begin.

Mitchie intuitively senses Alex's reluctance and overwhelming doubt. Not that she can blame the other girl. She did the same thing before confiding in Caitlyn years and years ago. A few of those secrets still remain dormant within her soul.

"I want to try to understand Alex. I'm your friend. I want to help you. Please, let me." To bolter her point she gently captures Alex's hand in her own, squeezing "I'm not going to go anywhere. I'm here right by your side."

I guess you're right. It isn't like I have a whole lot left to lose," Alex huffs in muttered annoyance.

Mitchie doesn't respond and brings a gentle arm around Alex's shoulders. She presses herself closer to the warmth and reassurance that is Mitchie, taking a deep breathe before beginning.

"I came from a pretty ordinary family," Ordinary enough for her explanation that is. Alex still has no desire or intention to tell Mitchie about the more secretive parts of her life. Especially what pertains to magic, a competition between siblings and her, and her losing to Justin. "I was the middle child, one older brother and one younger."

"Justin." Mitchie recalls from an earlier conversation.

Alex nods. "Justin was the oldest. Max was the youngest."

"I wish I had a brother," Mitchie gently laments.

Alex sadly smiles. "You say that now," she shakes her head as the memories come flooding back. "I don't know how our parents put up with us. Especially me."

"I don't understand." Mitchie can only imagine what kind of adventures the Russos' embark upon. She knows that she has had quite a few dramatic moments herself. To have that many siblings, the possibilities astound her and have her shaking her head in amazement.

"Mom and Dad worked hard but I made their life very, very difficult." Alex responds with regret. "Max generally confused everyone with his antics. Justin was the nerdy, perfect one. I was the rebel. If there was trouble you can probably make a safe bet that I found it. I lied, cheated, you name it I probably did it."

Despite the short time Mitchie has known Alex the mayhem the other girl is capable of creating isn't that hard to imagine. Alex's constant back talk and general upheaval with Mark is widespread, firsthand testimony to her capabilities. Not to mention antics with band members like Brandon.

From the look on Mitchie's face Alex is able to tell that she understands. "I was basically Justin's complete opposite. I can't tell you the number of times I heard 'if only you acted like Justin'. Or how often I was threatened with being sent off to military school."

"Military school?" Mitchie's eyes bug out. "You can't be serious!"

"Very." Alex laughs hollowly. "I only cared about me, myself and I. And that is the truth. If I was a nuisance to Mom and Dad I was a terror to Justin. We were always fighting."

"Isn't that normally what brothers and sisters do though?" Mitchie inquires puzzled.

Alex shrugs. "Probably, but it made a lot of tension between us. Like I said Justin was a geek. School didn't help because the stupid teachers got it through their thick skulls that I was just as much an angel as he was." She huffs in disgust. "Too bad for them. I gave them shit. I rarely did homework. I don't know how I passed the tests and to be honest, I'm surprised I didn't get into more trouble. All I seemed to ever get were slaps on the wrist. I was in detention so often I even had an alarm clock, blanket, pillow and hammock hidden in the closet."

"I'm assuming that did not go over very well with your parents." Mitchie comments, enchanted by the story.

"I doubt they ever knew the specific reasons. I was very good at covering my ass." Alex averted her eyes out of shame. "I got into trouble so often that after awhile I think my parents stopped caring."

Mitchie's body suddenly stiffens out of shock. "That's horrible! I can't-"

"No." Alex interrupts while vigorously shaking her head in negation. "They had every right too. They weren't sure what to do with me. I rarely ever crossed the line into doing something so bad that would get me into any serious trouble. But I got into trouble enough. They probably saw me being stuck at school longer as just punishment."

"From your attitude I take it you don't agree." Mitchie observes.

Alex shrugs feeling as though she isn't making any progress with her explanation. "I made the most of it." Not wanting to continue this line of questioning she changes the subject, her tone becoming more somber. "Justin though, he saw through everything. If Mom or Dad didn't catch on, and often they didn't, you can be sure Justin did."

Tears prickle at the back of her eyes. She isn't able to tell Mitchie about the countless number of times Justin saves her non-apologetic behind. Apparently the wave of emotion is detected because Alex finds herself in Mitchie's embrace once more.

"You miss him that much don't you?" Mitchie feels the nod against her shoulder.

"It's more then missing Justin, I miss them all Mitchie. I treated them like crap." Alex sniffles trying valiantly to hold back the waterworks. "Now I see how truly wonderful the life I had was and I took everything for granted!"

Mitchie rubs soothing circles on Alex's back as she tries to understand the sudden burst of anger and sadness. "Is that why you left home? Because you thought you let them down?"

"No!" Alex wails breaking away from Mitchie to bury her face in her hands. "I hated Justin! I hated Mom! I hated Dad! I even hated Max and all he ever did was make me laugh! So I ran away! I ran away like a coward from all my problems. And I never looked back. I quit school. I started singing. Eventually Mark hired me! And I've regretted every decision I made since then!"

Although Mitchie is sure Alex is not telling the complete story for the first time she is able to fathom the depth of destruction brought upon her soul. Her self-loathing alone is the equivalent of a nuclear blast. Mark and the like is added firepower to fully ensure she may never rebuild and heal.

"Oh Alex. Come here." Once again Mitchie gathers the distraught girl into her arms. Alex stiffens but doesn't pull away. "Shh… calm down. It will be alright."

Distraught Alex may be but Mitchie is offering serenity and comfort. Warmth and security fills her body and make her heart less. Vaguely she is aware of Mitchie quietly and gently guiding them to both lay down. She finds herself resting against Mitchie, whose arms are now securely wrapped about her waist.

The seemingly small gesture means infinitely more to Alex. Her head fitting snuggly in the crook of Mitchie's shoulder and neck. The other girl sighs contently feeling the tension dissipate.

"I'm sorry," Alex whispers ashamedly.

Mitchie smiles and reaches up to brush away some of the tears with a thumb. "Don't be. You should never be afraid to cry. Sometimes that is exactly what is needed to make you feel better. I know that is the way it is for me at least." This time Mitchie plucks back some arrant tresses of hair that have fallen in front of Alex's eyes. "You have been holding those in for a long time. Haven't you?"

The voice isn't critical or condescending. Alex detects the meaning and nods, agreeing with the fact that it is. "A long time. I don't like it when people know I'm hurt."

"Why?"

"Bad things happen when people find out a weakness." Alex's voice is just above a whisper.

Mitchie stifles her gasp trying to not feel like she has been insulted. "I'm not going to hurt you Alex! I would never hurt you!" Her voice takes on a higher more worried pitch, suddenly rapid. "Please believe me! Why would you think that?"

Alex tries not to giggle at Mitchie finding strange amusement in the bothered tones. "Mark. But you aren't him. Obviously."

Mitchie does not see any humor at all and frowns instead. "You still haven't told me about what he did to you," she cautiously reminds.

"My father owned a sandwich shop," Alex looks away unable to meet Mitchie's penetrating gaze. "And both of my parents ran it. Often Justin, Max and I would be drafted to help. They worked really, really hard. We were never spoiled but they made sure we never went without."

"My mother was the same way. Those kinds of parents are the best." Mitchie concurs.

"Yeah…I know that…now." Alex's voice finds a new hue of depression. "About a year before I left home the business started to suffer. There were more then enough customers to cover the bills but there wasn't much of a surplus anymore. Apparently after I disappeared things got even worse."

"Oh no!" Mitchie exclaims. "Did they, you know, have to close?"

"Fortunately no," Alex reassures, her face becoming unreadable. "But that was always a possibility. By then Mark had discovered my talents. He also needed to find some way to control me. I don't know how he found them but he did. The only reason I knew the family business was suffering was because of him."

The implication requires a moment to sink into the deeper recesses of the brunettes' brain. When it does the effect is immediate. Her eyes widen in total, disgusted shock. "You mean," Mitchie swallows down the hard lump suddenly in her very dry throat. "Mark did that? Made them almost have to close?"

"For sure? I don't know. Honestly, I don't think he did." Alex meets Mitchie's questioning eyes with a steady look of her own. "But he is definitely taking advantage of the situation. If I don't do what he says he will make sure they lose everything."

"You mean their business?"

"Not just that, business, home, everything. He swears that we will be homeless, on the streets living on food stamps and welfare if we are lucky." Alex's voice is quiet, remorseful and yet somehow not broken. "I have no doubt that he can and will care out his threat too. That is why I send most of what meager earnings I make home."

Mitchie is deathly pale, thoroughly scared about what she has heard. She isn't even aware that she is crying until Alex wipes the crystal droplets away.

"I wish I could say it gets better." By now Alex is hugging Mitchie back. "Once he finds something to control you, he makes you a prisoner. You come to realize that stupid silly things you take for granted are luxuries. I haven't had a vacation for years. I haven't spoken to my best friend for almost as long, and my family even longer. I can't even apologize.

"I can't even tell them how horrible I feel and how wonderfully lucky I am that they have made so many sacrifices for me over these years. That is what hurts the most Mitchie. That I moved on and forgot about them and for them to think that I am still the most uncaring, selfish bitch that left for the stupidest of reasons."

Mitchie's heart bleeds at these words. She painfully recalls a very similar conversation she had with Caitlyn years ago. Her own father threw her, his own daughter away with as much regard as choosing a pair of shoes to wear. Countless memories, years of a happy childhood were slowly and excruciatingly extracted one by one in a darkened world of suffering and violence.

The trauma is so recent, the wounds just beginning to scab over. A simple explanation by Alex has effectively torn the protective tissue away to expose a radically fragile heart. Now it is Mitchie's turn to cry and sob. To think that Mark may return her to that kind of Hell has her terrified.

Taken off guard all Alex may do is hold and cuddle her petrified friend.

You shouldn't worry about that Mitchie." Alex calmly tries to reassure. "That is my cross to bear." Her attempt to lessen her anxiety is futile as the sobbing grows.

Alex is stupefied, truly not getting what is going through the other girl's mind. That is when the lyrics of the song return to her and along with them Mitchie's great imbued fear.

"You!" Alex's voice softens instantly after noting how harsh the first word is when it escapes her lips. "You're thinking Mark is like your father."

"Yes." Mitchie whispers so softly Alex is scarcely sure she heard correctly. "They are so similar. I know I shouldn't but I can't help but wonder! If he did that to you what will he do to me?" Mitchie questions. "It's not like you can stop him. You can't even help yourself."

Alex is shaken by the harsh truth behind Mitchie's words. They hurt, the truth hurts and the other girl is totally right. Admittedly Alex doesn't know the answers to any of those concerns. In fact she doesn't have a clue, but she isn't stupid enough to further agitate Mitchie by making such a confession. So she does what she does best, she lies, utilizing her mask of fake confidence once again.

The difference is that for the first time, it isn't for her own sole benefit. She is caring about someone other than herself for once in a very long time.

"I don't know Mitchie." Alex shifts so that they are lying side-by-side, moist faces looking at each other while their hands remain entwined. "I don't have a lot of those answers but I'll make you a promise if you make me one in return."

"What is that?" Mitchie's voice is filled with uncertainty as she waits to hear Alex's proposal.

"You will always be there for me." Alex says much to Mitchie's surprise. This is _**not**_ what she expected.

Mitchie through her tears smiles, genuinely happy. "I promise. Always."

Alex smiles in return before reaching over and embraces her tightly. "Then no matter what we will face what happens, together. Promise. Friends to the bitter end."

"Friends to the end Alex."

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**Thank to everyone for reading! Please, PLEASE review, I'm really anxious to see how this chapter turned out and what people think. (Not kidding at all about how hard this was for me to write either)! **

**I've got a couple of big surprises coming for you guys. Also next couple of chapters won't be nearly as heavy and intense.  
**


	12. Chapter 12: Brilliant Plan To Dream Big

**I'm bbbaacccckkk! I'm alive too! Yay! I've been away for way too long. Not even going to really say why except that life has been insane. I've been probably more distraught about the lack of updating then you girls and guys have been. Seriously, it was driving me nuts! I've been using the keyboard as a pillow lately so this update is coming up after like another 2 days no sleep. Same routine, I'll go through it again and catch stuff I missed later. Feeling WWAAYYY lazy right now. **

**I've gotta give a couple of shoutouts though for some huge support. AnnieMJ, Ad3n and especially disneylover21. This chapter is a lot better thanks to your suggestions. **

**********Last request, please PLEASE review. I take everything into serious consideration so when you do if you could tell me why you liked A or why B didn't work out, why C made you feel that way; I would be hugely appreciative. I don't plan a lot out in advance save for big ideas so the more in-depth feedback I get, not only do I improve more as a writer the entire story as a whole improves. I will give credit for suggestions or ideas if I use them too. So please feel free to include those as well!**

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**Chapter 12**

The pair are lying down just far enough away that they aren't touching but their hands remain together, fingers securely entwined. The earlier conversations and emotions drain both girls. Already well into the late night before they finish their discussions little time passes before Mitchie's eyes flutter shut and remain that way.

Despite whatever exhaustion Alex is feeling she does not sleep. Inside her mind is flooded with ideas. Her eyes fall upon Mitchie. The girl's face is content, serene; her chest rises and falls in silent rhythm with her peaceful breathing. For such a long time she has been alone. Now that Mitchie is here her entire world has changed. Alex is puzzled. She doesn't know what to make of the situation. What she does know is that despite all the horror she has endured at Mark's hands Mitchie is by far the best and most positive.

The words said earlier make her even more confused. Mitchie is a friend. That much is for sure but now she is beginning to question whether those emotions may go even further. She cannot deny the joy that Mitchie brings into her life with every smile, laugh or cute wrinkling of her nose at something particurly distasteful.

Minutes trickle by as Alex mulls her feelings and ideas over and over in her head. The sorting process is a jumbled, confused mess but finally she reaches a plan. Delicately she removes her hands from Mitchie's grasp. Mitchie doesn't waken but lets out a long sigh, fully turning on to her side facing Alex as if suddenly disappointed.

Once more the heartstrings in Alex are brought together and tugged as her feelings go out to the lost expression on the other girl's face. Carefully she moves, wiggling closer and easing herself beside Mitchie. This arrangement seems much more appeasing since she senses something warm and solid. She sighs again in contentment before curling partially around Alex's upright form. An arm happily snakes around Alex's waist as Mitchie pulls herself closer into the other girl's inviting form.

Alex smiles in pure delight, running her fingers through soft hair not her own. Mitchie reacts again her other arm coming around behind Alex before clasping her hands together where they meet on Alex's tummy. For a moment Alex is worried that Mitchie may be waking so she remains still and quiet waiting to see what will happen. After a few long minutes Alex is pleased to glimpse her friend is still sleeping.

The last thing she wants is for Mitchie to discover her brilliant plan.

_Brilliant plan. Yeah. That's a good one Alex. Let's see if THIS ONE is the ONE that turns out the RIGHT WAY other then all your OTHER 'Brilliant Plans'._ That thought brings a smile to her face as she shakes her head at the fond memories of how one after another her schemes fall apart in spectacular fashion. Fortunately she does not dwell on the fact that more often then not her family, her lost family, in particular Justin, helps her out of these self-inflicted-conflicts more so then she would ever care to admit.

The reason for her not thinking about this negativity is the fault of a certain someone next to her. She can't complain at all about being turned into Mitchie's living Alex-bear. Not having felt affection or so loved for so long it is impossible for her not to give in to her feelings. Suddenly Mitchie is evolving into simply the 'other girl' to her friend, confident and perhaps even something more.

Right now though none of that matters. Figuring out her feelings is something that may wait. The problem is that Alex's 'Brilliant Plan' involves her cell phone that isn't immediately nearby requiring Alex to be in motion.

Trying to move while being clung to is an issue that Mitchie, despite being unconscious, naïve and beautiful is happily making the simple concept of movement much more complicated then it ever should be. Every time Alex moves Mitchie tightens her gripe or murmurs something unintelligible quietly in her sleep until Alex ceases her attempts.

Fortunately for Alex, being her typical Alex self in all her messy and disorganized ways, her headphones are in easy reach. They lay on top of the comforter. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for her cell phone that lies on her nightstand by the bed. It takes a bit of effort to very slowly navigate a foot or two; Michie is totally in oblivion and yet, despite the random sounds escaping her lips is more then willingly to merrily follow on the trek across the bed. Somehow she is able to maintain her gentle embrace of Alex as she moves. Only settling when Alex stops for a second before reaching over on to grab her phone.

Alex grabs her headphones plugging them into the phone before dialing a number.

"Hey B!" Alex whispers fervently, eyes flickering to Mitchie's face for a moment for any signs of stirring.

"Yeah it's me. Who else would it be?" Confident that she won't wake Alex exhales slowly and focuses on the conversation.

The girl on the other end responds in such a way as to make Alex roll her eyes. "No I didn't call you 'B' because I think you're _that_ word." _Only person who's a bitch is I. I'd call Mark that but I think Bastard fits better. _

As if reading Alex's mind the girl on the other end of the phone beats her to her thought, speaking verbally what is already going through her brain. Alex shakes her head grinning trying hard not to laugh, which is hard. The muscles in her diaphragm tightening maddeningly as she resists the overwhelming urge to burst out in fits.

_She's right. I do like being the queen bitch in his ass. Ok, just creeped myself out. I _really _don't want to think about it _**that **_way! Stupid friends. Stupid Britt Stupid Alex for listening to stupid friends! _Alex's huffs. "You know what? I can't win. Why can't we ever just have a pleasant conversation between pals? Ya'know I love yeah! So make up your mind girl on what you want!"

A pause on the other end as the person called Britt replies. Asking why Alex is being quiet and whispering. Usually the two are screaming at each other in one-way or another. Not out of any malice or discontent but simply because that is how the two act, jokes, verbal low blows and pranks all included at no extra expense.

"I'm whispering because I'm on tour! I would rather not wake up everyone and have my brilliant plan go to hell!" She deliberately, or rather more to the point lies about the part where she and Mitchie are sharing a bed. Room yes, that's fine to admit but bed? _Hell NO! _If Britt hears about _**that**_ the world would end. So also would her capability to defend herself from the verbal warfare that the two both treasure.

She rolls her eyes again at the snide comment from Britt about how _all _her plans seem to go to hell. This nearly causes Alex to laugh once again. Fortunately she is able to suppress the urge by taking a deep breathe in and then exhaling slowly. "Look, I know this is short notice but I could use a favor. Can you do this or not?"

More talking ensues and Alex's eyes widen at the sudden news. Once more she checks to make sure Mitchie is still stuck in the land of imagination because today those dreams are going to come true. "Done. I'll cya then. Tell Heather I owe her!" Alex sighs mockingly. Britt disapproves and loudly. Alex having to hold the phone away from her hear for a moment at the sudden outrage that makes her smile happily.

"Ok _fine_ I owe you too I suppose." Alex's eyes widen into the size of saucers at an unexpected suggestion, "NO! I am not kissing you much less your ass as payment." She knows just the retort to end the conversation and battle in her favor. "Besides it's fat and wrinkly. Later!"

The conversation is surprisingly brief having lasted only a few minutes and when it ends nothing but a smile is left on her face. She hanging her head a little, shaking it side to side in disbelief at how the conversation played out moments before.

With a last touch to the screen to set her alarm, unplugging the headphones and setting both aside Alex allows herself to settle down, moving from an upright position into one where she is fully stretched out.

With a song in her heart and happiness and excitement Alex molds her body into Mitchie's. The top of her head resting against the other girls, velvet tresses kissing Alex's cheek as she closes her eyes to join Mitchie in pleasant sleep.

Soon after, much sooner then expected Alex is cruelly awakened by the annoying klaxon sound coming from her iPhone. She always hated that 'Red Alert' Star Trek – like blaring; in her opinion it is the most annoying alarm she is able to fathom from the small device. Somehow the piece of technology is also able to blast it at a loud and obnoxious manner that is sufficient to even get her attention. Probably has something to do with that particular franchise being a favorite of a certain older brother of hers. That is saying something given her fortitude for sleeping.

Whether that is a factor in wakening her she doesn't know. She doesn't care either. All she does understand is that the tactic is cruelly effective.

Fortunately for Mitchie she is utterly oblivious. During her slumber she has shifted a bit and buried her head partially under a pillow and into the crook of Alex's shoulder. The warm and assuredly comfortable cocoon Mitchie is sleeping in is quite satisfactory because when Alex moves to turn off a rather insistent device blaring in her ears the other girl simply moves with the warmth. A soft sigh of contentment comes from her lips that are felt by the warm breath through Alex's shirt rather then heard when Alex does stop moving.

Normally Alex is one to give in her streak of rolling over and going back to sleep but this time her brain is dead set against it. Brown eyes stare at the ceiling for a minute or two to simply cherish the close contact with Mitchie. Wondering where this new road to friendship is going to go. Especially after what is going to come.

_God if this is another fuck up… _Alex shakes her head clearing her mind of such negativity. _I can't think like that. I've got to prove this, if for no other reason then to myself._

The thoughts in her mind take away from reality just in time for her phone alarm to start with its' damaging, migraine inducing noise.

_DAMNIT! WHY WHY do I keep setting TWO alarms spaced five minutes apart. _She growls in aggravation before grabbing the device again and turning it off. Finding out in the process that her protective measures of _ensuring_ she wakes up are fully in place.

_Good god I had all seven FUCKING ALARMS set at five-minute intervals? _This time she does sit up whispering to herself under her breath. "Yeah 'cause you're always turning off the snooze settings right?" She pauses before muttering. "This is gonna suck its only 8am. I can't believe I'm doing this."

All her brain wants to do is go back into the bed. Contently drift away into the clouds surrounding in peace with her very warm, very comfortable and quite affectionate friend. Unfortunately that isn't to be. The logic in her mind wins out for once and beats temptation into submission before she leans over and down grasping Mitchie's shoulder and shaking. "Mitchie! Mitchie!" Murmurs of something escape her mouth but the girl's eyes don't even flutter.

She tries this tactic twice more before utilizing a tactic Justin and her mother discovered: tickling. This has the desired effect as Mitchie wakes up in a fit of wiggling and a very startled squeal.

"ALEX!" She yells. "What the heck?" Mitchie is now sitting straight up a look of great agitation framing her face. Her eyes narrowed slits at the other girl, who for one is surprised that that worked so effectively. It takes all her willpower to not laugh outright at the situation. Mitchie on the other hand is having none of it and the look grows even darker. "Well Alex? I'm waiting! Why'd you wake me up?" The pleading tone at the end of Mitchie's voice almost causes Alex to wince as her heart goes out to her friend.

The wait is over and Alex knows there is no simple way to spill the news so she just comes out and says it. "We've got a show. We leave in an hour on for practice."

This clearly is not what Mitchie wants to hear and her face darkens further, eyes reaching deep into Alex's as they search for sincerity. Finding nothing but truth she nods. "Fine. I'm not happy about it but I can get over what you just did. When does the jerk," the single word is laced with venom despite the brightening expression on her face gives away her true feelings, "want us to perform now?"

"I don't know. All I know is he wants us there ASAP." That isn't exactly the truth but there is some risk in her schemes. This is just one part and one of the more simple ones actually. That is what scares Alex so much. Of course none of this shows through at all. She is able to communicate this easily to Mitchie. "I'm sorry for waking you like that Mitchie but I really would rather not face his wrath again."

Mitchie agrees by nodding before a sly grin breaks out. "It will feel nice to be back on stage. Having fans cheering you on." She is able to steal a smile out of Alex before with a yawn and stretch climbs out of bed, grabs some clothes from a dresser and disappears into a closed door directly across from the bathroom.

Mitchie's curiosity is further piqued by the fact she sees a light turn on and then hears water running. "Alex? What are you doing?" She calls out.

Her reply is muffled by the rushing water but is still easily heard. "What does it look like? I'm getting ready to take a shower!"

Now this has Mitchie's attention. "Since when did we have two bathrooms? Isn't that a closet?"

Alex's musical laughter fills both rooms. Out of sight from Mitchie she is actually laughing so hard she is in tears. Gasping for breath she calms herself. "Since when do closets' have running water? This one is just like yours! I thought you knew that," comes her reply.

_Shower? Bathroom? As in TWO HUGE bathrooms, I thought one was just a closet. Good job Mitchie! Great for looking like an idiot!_ "So we have two bathrooms?" She, still mystified asks just for clarification.

Alex rolls her eyes at this most incredible line of conversation and turns off the water. She steps out and back into the main room face damp from the water having been splashed on it to further wake her up. "Yup. And you better get in yours fast. We only have like forty-five minutes until we leave." Alex gives Mitchie a stern look before gesturing to get moving.

"I sense a 'but' in there." Mitchie responds as she swings her legs out from under the comforter and places her feet on the floor. She then gets up and moves quickly to her dresser and her closest, a genuine one this time, pulling out clothes.

"Well… yeah. The 'but' is called breakfast. Miss it if you want but I'm not. I'm hungry! So that means no throwing hard-boiled eggs at me!" Alex's voice becoming distant and then it is gone. The door closes and the sound of a fan and much more water being used meet Mitchie's ears.

"Breakfast?" Her stomach seems to agree as it rumbles loudly reminding that it too wants to be fed. Then the last remake registers and causes Mitchie to break out laughing. "I only did that once because you stabbed me with the bacon!" She isn't sure whether Alex even heard her but it does not matter because after stretching once she too disappears behind the adjacent door. Closing it with frantic movement until rushing water is all that may be heard.

* * *

By the time the two girls have finished with their showers and are dressed the pair leave their room. Mitchie is wearing jeans and comfortable sneakers and a white t-shirt with the words 'Dream Big & Shine' outlined on the front in fabric paint and colorful glitter. Alex chooses more conservative clothing, her traditional converse high tops and black jeans with a plain white tank top.

"Nice choice of dress Mitchie." Alex says with a pleasant tone.

Mitchie is in the midst of grabbing her gear and jumps at the unexpected voice from behind. "T-thanks! I'm… glad you approve." Due to her father's dominating presence in her life compliments often go left unfelt or invalidated. This is true even for those closest to her, including even Caitlyn. However coming from Alex, the famed Selena Gomez, the singer, the performer, her friend, the simple comment passes easily through her defensive walls and merrily walks into her heart unobstructed by negative thoughts.

Blood rushes towards her head and she is sure that from the bottom of her chin to the tip of her ears is nothing but tomato red. She tries to disguise this in stride by stuffing the last of what she needs into a single light blue duffel bag with her name, real name, stitched in pink.

Inwardly Alex doesn't let on that she has seen Mitchie's nervous, surprised reaction but eyes trained to look for attention to details gives her an inner glimpse into the other girl's feelings.

Alex comments not only because she truly enjoys the shirt and the message upon it, but most importantly the girl who dons the piece of fabric with so much class, sincerity and genuine personality that is honest and true. With the machines in her mind already in high gear they shift into full 'war production'.

She is not one to be superstitious but the stakes are so incredible nervousness flutters throughout her tummy. The very blatant statement across that t-shirt are almost haunting, 'Dream Big'. Does that mean she has to dream to see what might be _under_ the shirt?

_Get a grip Alex. You shouldn't even be _thinking_ like that! Damn brain. Why don't you just get out of the gutter, but noooo! Apparently you're much happier being wielded to the side. Stupid brain! _Mentally she berates herself some more before fantasies of a much more intense and intimate manner take hold. That does not stop her intent or so in the least. If anything all of the former, like it or not, only emboldens and encourages her further.

_Tonight I swear that phrase will have more meaning then anything else. _Those simple words do much to ease the strain on her hyper taxed brain. Those words give her faith; hope to carry out that which she so desperately wants to pull off.

Alex is similarly prepared but carries a black and grey duffel bag with no name and a rather large overly stuffed backpack slung over her shoulder too. All of these various carrying devices contain assorted clothing and other necessities for rehearsal.

They arrive at one of the dining areas with little time to spare and as a result have little choice but to speed through a rather large amount of food. Eggs, bacon, hash and waffles with juice for Mitchie and milk for Alex leaves no time to chat, only the clatter of silverware against white plates. Fortunately after everything the two have gone through the following night it is not a difficult feat for either of them to power through the heaping piles of delicious edibles.

Alex glances at her watch as they finish placing the empty dishes on to the cleaning racks. "We've gotta jet. We're cutting it close." She says as she breaks into a fast walk. "I'd really not like to be late again."

Mitchie easily matches and stands besides Alex. _Again? Well she would know more then me. Better not to ask. _She does however store that information in the file cabinet in the rear area of her brain. Not wanting to dwell on the unhappy thought she presses forward with the question at the tip of her tongue. "You have any idea what's on the docket for today?"

"I'm assuming it is probably going to more of the usual." She shrugs her shoulders though as they continue their fast paced walk. "If you mean a play-by-play schedule then no. No clue."

"Lucky us." Mitchie remarks as she glances out of the corner of her eye at Alex to see how she would react to such a statement.

"Yeah," Alex sarcastically shoots off. _I'm going to need every bit of I can get for this to work. Please. For once be on my side._ Quickly she rethinks her previous answer. After all not knowing the specifics of day-to-day planning when it comes to all that kind of stuff really is the story of her life after her signature is on the dotted line. "Don't worry about it that much. You get used to it pretty quick around here. I'm sure you discovered this at least in part before your first few performances."

Mitchie arches her eyebrow up at Alex. She does have a good point. Nevertheless, for someone who loves to have everything so planned out and scheduled adapting to such a rotating, on-the-fly-whim perspective does not make for an easy transition. "I assumed that was more of a… fluke. More of me getting familiar with the usual routines and such."

As they turn the last corner they may see down the short hall through the doors that waiting is an all white SUV Ford Explorer already running. All the windows except for the windshield are tinted for security. They may see out but those outside cannot see in.

"Nope. Welcome to the club of musical dysfunction." Alex cheerfully responds as they reach the doors, pressing down on the aluminum bar so they may exit. "Although I will say that that entire mess before hand isn't typical."

"I would sure hope not. That really sucked." Mitchie says as she opens the SUV door. Instead of taking the immediate seat she scoots over. Alex sits down next to her and as soon as she does and the door closes the vehicle is moving. She isn't surprised to see another special modification inside. A black soundproof piece of glass separates the driver and front passenger seat from the rest of those in the SUV. "I'm surprised no one got fired for that one."

Alex winces at the harshness but inside she feels the honesty in the words. "I wouldn't be so sure. If I was in charge I know I would probably have. That wardrobe malfunction and lighting screw-up could have trashed the whole concert."

"Really? That bad?" Mitchie looks at Alex shocked as the vehicle rolls into motion, gaining speed as it turns on to the expressway.

"That's what I heard anyway. There is some rumor going around that it was sabotage." Alex casually replies causing Mitchie's eyes to widen.

"Are you serious? Someone would go to that length?" Inside Mitchie already knows the answer but she is looking for validation anyway. The other girl turns to her with an "are-you-crazy?" expression on her face. "Ok, I suppose that was stupid. I can imagine that Mark isn't too popular."

At this Alex merely turns her head to look out the window, the scenery zooming by as they go on to the highway. "Depends on who you ask. Those in charge love him. He's a jerk of the worst kind with no respect for those who are under him but those close to him are like family. They are all buddy-buddy.

"The fact that that malfunction," the word 'malfunction' Alex air quotes using two fingers on each hand as she turns her attention back to Mitchie. "Happened on your first concert and to you in particular might have even played into it. Screw up wardrobe so nothing fits, screw up the lights so they don't time with the music you blame the new girl."

Mitchie is not pleased to learn this new development and her face turns a bit paler as the implications sink into her brain. She automatically categorizing and thinking about everyone she has met and everything she has done up until this point. _Could I have accidentally done something like that? Too nearly destroy my own performance?_

Alex sees and feels the shift and tension change within Mitchie. The other girl is like a book in her body language. Her eyes, dark brown and abrupt sternness give so much away. Friendly, funny, beautiful, caring, are now cold and hard pupils filled with doubt and insecurity. Alex is determined to squash this pathetic idea here and now. "Don't even think that Mitchie."

Mitchie doesn't respond and turns away to look out the window.

This action only makes Alex more determined. "Don't!" This time she takes more direct action and turns completely around so that she is fully facing her fellow singer. She touches Mitchie's shoulder gently adding pressure to encourage the other girl to face her once again. The tension is papable. "Mitchie, you _have_ to let that kind of stuff go. Letting yourself dwell on it will eat you alive inside until there is nothing left."

Mitchie continues to stare at the moving imagery before her, left hand tightly clenching her chin and sides of both cheeks. The right hand rests across her lap, flaccid but her hand is fisted too. The anger and frustration grows in waves, forceful, almost vengeful snarls when she speaks. "How do you know?" Her tone again changes as for the first time she turns to face her fellow singer. The soft features Alex so admires scrunched and deformed by rage and frustration. "Have you gone through it? Feeling like you're at fault for everything?"

Had anyone else asked these questions of her Alex would have immediately A) promptly told them to go to hell, B) it was none of their damn concern, C) walk away, D) do everything possible to ensure that they would never encounter each other again to avoid even risking such a conversation. However, none of this is true with Mitchie. Although parts of her brain scream in complete conservative outrage her heart and sincere, deep personality shines through to the top.

The proud, prideful girl holds her head high then prepares for an explanation that she wasn't sure would solve anything.

"Mitchie I've been here a long time. I've seen and felt things I hope I won't ever have too again." Her friend's demeanor remains the same and with no reaction Alex keeps continues. "I've gone through over a dozen different band mates in the course of my time here. Early in my career one became not only jealous but greedy."

Mitchie still keeps her stance but Alex can tell that she is now interested by the way her head and eyes shifted slightly as she spoke the last sentence. "So what happened then?" Mitchie asks the hostility present but definitely less then before.

"Well we were going to perform in a club and sometime during the setup, I don't know for sure when. She got hold of some of the lighting and stage flame thrower equipment." A gasp not her own in addition to Mitchie turning her full attention to the other singer is very apparent. Her eyes are suddenly animated by curiosity that forces out the negativity if even for only a brief time. Alex is not so optimistic and she clenches her jaw at the painful memory. "Something was supposed to happen that would cause the pyro machine to go a-wire. The lights and smoke screen where going to be set at the same time to add to the confusion and chaos. No one was going to get hurt but the concert and my reputation would be pretty much history."

Mitchie instantly shifts whatever anger is left to worry. "You said no one was hurt. Is that true?"

"Short answer yes. Long answer no." Alex solemnly responds fully realizing that this response will make no sense. Indeed confusion flickers as if on some sort of queue both girls match the others stare. "A final safety-check right before the performance by one of the stage hands found the error and it was corrected. Video security footage later found out who it was. She was arrested and fired. If there is any humor in this at all is that she, rather we still had to perform that night."

A lopsided grin breaks out on Mitchie's face and Alex mirrors her expression before growing somber once more. "But for me," she pauses to take a deep breath, "but for me that was much harder to come to terms with. I mean here I am, just starting out and already someone is after my job."

"Head too apparently." Mitchie jests bringing another sly grin to Alex's face.

"Yeah. That is rather fortunate. I couldn't do much without that now could I?" Alex weakly contributes. "That didn't stop me from blaming myself though. I mean after all this was someone I had worked with for awhile. I mean we're in the same band. We're on the same team and we're family. Ya'know? I had a lot of difficulty accepting what the cause was and eventually I came to terms that it wasn't my fault." Alex clasps one hand on Mitchie's shoulder, the other on her knee. "I don't want you to go through what I did. That self-loathing and blame; she did what she did because she was unable to work through the steps to greatness. I learned a very difficult lesson that day. I learned that people are people. Even those that seem like your friend and are wonderful may turn out to have ulterior motives that don't include your best interests."

Mitchie bows her head and thinks this over for a minute. Fingers come up to pinch the bridge of her nose in thought. "Where does that leave us?"

Perplexed Alex looks at Mitchie in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I guess," Mitchie carefully places Alex's hands back into the other girls lap. This only makes her more confused. Although her mouth does not speak her widening eyes do. "I guess what I'm asking," Mitchie despite the rapid activity of her brain doesn't see anyway to sugarcoat the subject so she simply asks it straight away: brutal, honest, truth. "Are we friend," Mitchie swallows hard, her mouth dry, throat suddenly tight, her voice sounding horse. "Or are we foe?"

Most of the time of the admittedly short period Alex is awake during the night is spent debating that very question. Whether to place all of the various pieces of the puzzle she is carefully carving out in front of Mitchie. To expose her complete hand of cards, the full picture. The single question is one that could be lie or truth, make or break and is the one that has been at the forefront of Alex's mind. In the end all of her planning is forgotten. In a second her preplanned answer is thrown to the wind.

She decides on neither. She will allow Mitchie to dictate her answer.

Mitchie becomes concerned by the sudden tension and seriousness building in the normally animated Russo. She is still, her gaze wavering, arms limply hanging by her sides as the silence lingers. "Alex? What is it?" Mitchie's fingertips gently brush against the soft skin of Alex's cheek in quiet reassurance. This seems to break her friend out of whatever mysterious place her mind had wandered off too.

"Mitchie?" The voice is a whisper, quiet and laced with intense purpose.

"Yeah Alex?" Mitchie is growing more and more concerned as Alex's stone cold persona begins to reassert itself back into the cold shell she has seen before, dark lonely place where emotions don't exist. Alex is gone. Alex has turned into Selena. The Selena Mitchie meets in the Dark Room not that long ago.

"Do you trust me?" Alex's voice is a hushed fear-filled whisper.

This is not what Mitchie is expecting the response takes her back greatly. "Yes."

"No," Alex shakes her head gently and grasps Mitchie's hands into her own. "Do you _trust_ me!" The last word is edged with a hint of desperation. Eyes not her own flicker upwards and brown means brown in a contest that finds nothing but gentle resolution. Alex's tone softens as she sees more clarification is needed. "If you really want me too I will tell you everything right now. Or…"

Mitchie squeezes the fingers interlaced with her own for encouragement. Her voice filled with tenderness and care as she intuitively fathoms that this is extremely difficult for Alex. "Or what Alex? I'm right here. This." She holds up their clenched hands together so that the bound hands are between their faces. "Is a promise; this is friendship. This, "she shakes her fist gently so that both feel a gentle sway in their wrists, "is me not going anywhere, no matter what. Believe that."

With deliberate intent and sincerity she brings Alex's knuckles to her face, kissing her wrist. "I,"she pauses for a second to swallow hard, "we made a promise to each other. I, we aren't going anywhere alone."

Words assault Alex's senses in waves and instead of blocking out the emotions; hardening her defensive walls she for a minute allows those gates to her heart to open. She is absolutely vulnerable and capable of being utterly and permanently destroyed. Instead of a missile of destruction she finds an offering of peace, faith, acceptance and love.

Stress builds all over her body as she closes her eyes. Taking a deep breath before exhaling and with it all the tension inside. "I could tell you," Alex opens her eyes making sure her stare is laser locked with Mitchie, "or you can trust in me that we will experience a once in a lifetime moment. Something that we will do together."

Alex looks out the window and she can tell from the buildings they are passing that they are deep in downtown New York. High rises are on either side of the street. A street sign they pass reads 7th Avenue and Alex exhales at her incredible fortune and the timing.

All of this only serves to confuse and confound Mitchie more and the girl tries to figure everything out. When she can't she turns to Alex for answers. The stone hard exterior known as Selena is gone and in her place is the gentle soul Mitchie is growing to adore. "I don't understand Alex."

"I know you don't Mitch." Alex says with ease in her voice that even she finds strange. "Look out your window. Soon you will see."

_Mitch? Did she call me Mitch?_ Fond memories rush forward in a torrent of happiness and relief. A long forgotten nickname that she is so unaccustomed to hearing that for Alex to suddenly speak the name seems so…. right. Obediently Mitchie heeds the command but none of the area looks familiar to her. She isn't a native of New York after all. Despite she not knowing the specific location she still stays quiet especially as the buildings start to part and a huge dome begins to loom in the distance. The glass facade beginning to shine in the warm sun is impossible to miss as the vehicle turns a corner.

"Alex?" Excitement and apprehension fills her voice at this new development. Hollow nervousness finding itself in the pit of her stomach once more as the words find purchase off the tip of her tongue. "Alex is this what I think it is, where I think we are going?"

By now the massive complex is rapidly approaching. The most striking note, aside from the sheer size is the incredible architecture and enormity of history that suddenly fills the void of the SUV. Hundreds of acts, millions of guests, countless awards, legends of all sorts and types have performed here.

The driver knows exactly where he is going. This allows Mitchie plenty of time to process this development.

Daylight slowly turning into dark as the vehicle enters an underground entrance. For Mitchie it is as if history is welcoming her inside, to be a part of this amazing, one-of-a-kind place. Her heart flutters in rapid beats, palm sweaty. A million-and-one thoughts race through her head as she realizes where she is, where they are.

"Yes Mitchie. This is the most famous music venue in the world: Madison Square Gardens." The two girls eyes meet once more as the windows into each other's souls are lowered once more. Alex takes the intuitive and responds first. She can see that Mitchie is mystified that they are here and remains clueless as to why.

"Yesterday," Alex swallows down hard and does her best to keep her voice steady. "Yesterday night we made a promise to each other. We promised that we would be friends, we would stand by one another."

Mitchie nods hesitantly not sure where this is going. She fidgets nervously in her chair as the SUV begins to slow as it reaches its final stopping point. Praying that her heart won't be broken once again, that she has been given the sky as her limit only to be cruelly weighed down by iron chains, teased by the sunlight, never to see day, to live in the shadows of greatness, of what could be. Alex wouldn't be that heartless and despicable would she?

"In my world words and promises don't mean much." Alex softly admits. Hurt and despair flash in Mitchie's eyes and the pained look wounds Alex deeply, her heart bleeds at the sudden fear. Nevertheless she presses forward, steeling herself for the moment that will define everything. "I don't want to make a promise. Those are cheap and mean nothing. I think we both know that."

Mitchie cannot argue against that logic. "Yeah, I guess not," defeat hanging in every word, as the conversation grows worse with each passing second. "But that doesn't explain why we are here."

"Yes it does Mitchie." Alex carefully grasps Mitchie's hands within her own and holds them tightly in her own. "We are here because I intend to prove that our promise has meaning. That all the pain we have suffered, whether because of your father, my lose of family, or Mark has a purpose. I have made many mistakes in my past Mitchie. You are one of the best things to have entered my life in a long time. You aren't like anyone I have ever met before. I intend to seal that promise with actions rather then words. I just ask one thing."

Mitchie's head is reeling. This new revelation is overwhelming her senses. No one, _no one_ has made such an impassioned plea to her before. The tone in Alex's voice is one that leaves no discussion for doubt. She truly means what she is saying. "And that is?"

"To trust me through the next couple of hours, to put your heart and soul into everything because tonight everything changes. I don't know what will happen after. I don't know what the future holds either, but I do know that we have something special. Tonight is about proving it." Alex's voice cracks one the last sentence. The sheer willpower that has held her up for so long no longer can do so and a tear escapes down a cheek.

Inwardly Alex curses herself for being so feeble, for showing such defenselessness but is instead shocked to find Mitchie's hand on her cheek, a thumb brushing away the droplet. "I trust you Alex. Tonight is for us."

Silence is deafening as both girls sigh heavily leaning into each other, foreheads touching in silent agreement, hands clasped together as the SUV stops at last.

Even in the dim light in the offload and freight receiving area the words on a certain t-shirt catch and demand attention. Beautiful glitter-paint shining as a beacon of hope and happiness for Alex as much being at Madison Square Gardens does for Mitchie.

**Dream Big & Shine**

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**This chapter was originally going to be a lot longer. However I had to divide it up or else it would have been... well too long for the update. Plus I needed a shift in tone from the previous chapter. If you want more and were expecting more, I promise a lot more will be revealed and will come in the next one. If you think the next update is slow on coming feel free to send me a pm and harass me about it. Nothing like a little encouragement to get motivated! Thanks again for reading and reviewing!  
**


	13. Chapter 13: Countdown to Concert

**I'm updating again! And it didn't take me like.. 6 months! ZOMG! This chapter was initially going to a lot longer as in like…. way, way longer. For the sake of time…. and cause I wub you guys sssooo much - although not sure how much you will love me after this.**** - **** I decided to break said massive chapter into 3 parts. As soon as my incredible, amazing, wonderful beta is done editing up the other two go – yes – the other TWO chapters are already written. I won't give anything away but you should see some BIG changes.**

**One last thing, I've dropped a couple very subtle clues in each (including this one) on what is to come. Happy guessing! **

**Thank you for all the support and ideas. Please review. =)**

**Big thanks to ****my beta Lily Zen**! This would not have been possible without you!

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place**. I am not **affiliated with Scooter or own any of his/their songs.** I don't own Camp Rock. Of course this is a work of fiction.  


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**Chapter 13**

Those few seconds pass by like an eternity for each girl. Both are lost in their own thoughts. Both are near tears. Alex, for the sake of being accepted, truly accepted as a friend and as someone who isn't going to be shunned. Mitchie is shocked at the incredible effort that Alex has gone through just on the whim of believing in something that may not exist

She is more than shocked. She is stunned. Alex, on pure faith and for the hope of a relationship, even if it is just simple friendship, making sacrifices for her and her only. The power of that statement alone says an incredible volume about her fellow singer's character. Mitchie's heart is still overwhelmed, struggling to comprehend the powerful feelings flowing so merrily throughout her body. She is also determined to take every single word that Alex has spoken to their deepest level of meaning.

Whatever happens, whatever course the next few hours take, her entire being will be invested fully. At the very least she owes this to her dear friend. At the most she owes it to herself to see what is going to happen.

Quietness fills the SUV as Mitchie shifts to envelope Alex into a hug, one that probably would have been deeper and more heartfelt were it not for the diabolical seatbelts in the way. Needless to say Alex doesn't care and returns the embrace with all the passion her limited mobility allows.

As if on queue both part, smiles stuck to their faces as men in immaculate suits open the doors on either side of the vehicle.

Each picks up her luggage from the suit. They have already retrieved the various bags from the trunk.

"Thanks for everything!" Mitchie happily says to the man as she crosses behind the SUV bag in hand. Alex, unlike Mitchie stays silent, and hurries ahead. While Mitchie may think that such an action is impolite she is not eager to be left behind. She frantically increases her pace to match her fellow singers, calling out frantically. "Hey! Alex! Wait up!"

Startled Alex looks back and sees her friend trying to catch up. She stops until Mitchie is at her side again, the pair walking in stride. "Sorry I thought you were right beside me the whole time."

Mitchie's eyebrow rises in question. "Really? Didn't you ever wonder why I was so quiet?"

"Nope." Alex smirks knowingly. "Never crossed my mind."

"You're hopeless sometimes my silly singer." Mitchie comments before breaking out into a smile.

This time Alex turns to look at her as if the other girl has grown another head. "Silly singer? When did you come up with _that_?" She gives Mitchie a hard accusatory stare. "You weren't talking to Bran Flakes again were you?"

"What?" Having reached the door to the Gardens Mitchie opens it, holding it for Alex before returning to her former place by her side. "Bran Flakes? _Oh she means Brandon. The guy who conveniently forgot to tell me there were two bathrooms. _The mental note for revenge is catalogued for later. Especially since she suspects that Alex torments him enough for the both of them.. "Why would I have talked to him? Does he call you 'Silly Singer'?" Suspecting that Alex might retaliate Mitchie puts on her most innocent look.

The cute, childish look on Mitchie's features does in fact get to Alex. An otherwise sharp and potentially insulting remark never makes it off her tongue. Instead she sighs wearily. Mitchie has her answer although Alex's response gives her confirmation. "If you, Miss Curiosity _must know_ yeah, he has called me that a few times." Her voice is one that tries to be serious but cracks at the last two words as she bursts out giggling.

"Glad we had this conversation Alex!" Mitchie joins as the girls continue their playful banter.

"Remind me why we're friends again?" Alex says while rolling her eyes.

This causes Mitchie to laugh. "'Cause I'm cute!"

Alex joins in. "Yeah, that must be it." _You're not cute Mitchie, you're beautiful._ Her brain screams at the top of its lungs. "Come on, we're nearly at the rehearsal space," she states before opening and holding a wooden door for Mitchie. "Hope you're ready for a workout."

"Always!" A gleeful Mitchie responds, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting quickly. She correctly assumes that the pair is supposed to follow this short corridor. To her disbelief Alex has become uncharacteristically silent. This doesn't make her feel warm and fuzzy inside either. Somehow keeping the anxiety out of her voice Mitchie speaks. "Is everything ok Alex?"

"Keep walking Mitchie. We're almost there." Alex cryptically replies placing a hand on the small of the other girls back.

Although the answer is not very comforting Alex's feather-like touch is and it thoroughly calms the brunette.

Upon exiting the corridor Mitchie gasps in utter disbelief, her mouth open in amazement.

The hallway is one of several back doors and special entrances on to an adjacent stage. However, the stage is not simply a convenient place for rehearsal. The stage is in a location called _Beacon Theater_ and is a fully functional venue unto itself capable of seating 2,800.

"Holy shit!" Mitchie exclaims. "I'm… I'm actually here!" The impact of being_inside_ Madison Square Gardens strikes deep within her heart.

Alex quietly smiles as she witnesses the whirlwind of emotions race and play across her friends' astonished eyes. Gently she wraps an arm around Mitchie's neck and shoulder, leading her back into walking. "This is it. We had better start stretching."

Wide-eyed Mitchie cannot even speak and only nods her ascent. Dropping her bag next to Alex's, pulls out a water bottle too.

"ALLY!" A voice cruelly interrupts the serenity, destroying the moment and forcing Mitchie back into the present.

"Crap." Alex utters under her breath. At the same time an exceedingly annoyed left hand smacks her forehead with the flat part of the palm.

The hasty change in Alex's mood takes Mitchie off guard. The single word is barely distinguishable but she hears it due to her close proximity.

"ALLY!" The excited voice yells again. Fast moving boots against the floor accompany the shout. Alex is able to make out a rush of purple streaked, flowing blonde curls before a body smashes into hers. The newcomer is slightly taller than Alex with tanned skin, or at least that which is visible. What looks to be a darker, almost a black shade of lipstick and eyeliner really makes her facial features stand out, and not necessarily in a way Mitchie is sure is fashionable.

Tight black jeans hug her lower figure while a tank top in the same colored fabric is cropped short along the bottom leaves her midsection bare. A netted, mesh top with short sleeves adds to her mystique as little is left to the imagination, yet what is concealed is designed to make the voyeur yearning for more. The effect is a stunning stage look combination that screams feminine, sleek, and sexy.

"Ally! I missed you!" She exclaims happily, hugging the other girl tightly.

By the way Alex is reacting Mitchie observes that she is less than enthusiastic about this exchange.

"Great to see you too Brit." Alex's voice suddenly sounds weary, both hands at her sides not bothering to return the hold. "How about letting me go so I can introduce my friend?"

Brit stands back pouting. "Ally," she whines. "You didn't miss me at all?"

She shakes her head.

"Not even a little?"

"Nope." This time Alex crosses her arms with a, "humph!"

Off to the side Mitchie isn't sure what to think or what to say. Obviously they have some sort of history but she cannot decipher whether either is joking or serious. Instead of interrupting she stays quiet eagerly waiting to see how this plays out. Alex has already demonstrated time and time again that she is a brilliant actress, able to hide her real thoughts and intentions with despicable ease.

Brit and Alex maintain the stoic, immovable expressions for a bit longer before the façade breaks.

"You're impossible!" They chime together, this time hugging for real.

Alex is the first to step back. "Look Brit. I just wanna say-"

This time Brit huffs, cutting off Alex by rudely clamping a hand over her mouth. "Don't you dare thank me! Which reminds me." She smiles sweetly at the brunette; her grin growing larger at seeing the other girl cringe. "Your ass is mine."

"Could have gone my _whole life_ without knowing your dirty fantasies B." Alex smiles in amusement. She is also smiling in relief too. Brit never was talented at this bad-girl-I-own-your-ass-routine. _Thank god. If she did… well… better not to think about that! _She shakes her head, suddenly traumatized by her own mental imagery.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Mitchie astutely inquires, curious as to why Alex is turning all shades of pink and red. _Awww… she looks so embarrassed!_

Alex is terrified that someone noticed and futilely tries to avoid detection. _Of course Mitchie would notice you you moron! She has like a second set of eyes just for that kind of thing! No way in hell I'm answering that! _So she does what comes naturally: redirect. "Brit, I'd like you to meet my close friend and gifted fellow performer, Mitchie."

"Hello," Mitchie responds a bit shyly. She isn't sure how to act around Brit quite yet.

Whatever reservations Mitchie may have about being included with Alex and Brit goes out the window as she is welcomed with open arms, literally.

"Hello to you too!" Brit exclaims with excitement. "Ally has spoken rather highly of your exploits." Brit says while arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in the girls' direction.

_What is she talking about? Alex please tell me you didn't! _Mitchie masks her displeasure at this knowledge with a sly, curious grin. "Really? Do tell?"

Brit laughs before wrapping her arm about Mitchie's shoulders; the other comes around Alex as she guides them along. "Sadly she didn't give me much. Only all your dirty little secrets with plenty of juicy details." Mitchie gasps furthering Brit's delight.

Alex is not pleased. She darkens considerably and hits Brit in the stomach. Hard.

"What the fuck Alex?" Brit loudly complains, now bent over a bit, a palm covering the stinging region. "Did you have to hit me like that?"

"Yes, in fact I did." Alex growls in frustration. "You need to learn to shut up. Mitchie is a great friend, and I'd rather not lose that! So, knock the bullshit off!"

If a head was able to vent steam Mitchie is sure she would be able to see it escaping from the hair follicles upon Alex's head. "Alex, don't worry so much. I'm fine really!" Alex remains skeptical from the look in her eyes. "I didn't really believe that you told her anything." Mitchie quickly adds in for good measure.

This time Alex softens, much of the fire dissipating. "Ok. I'll drop it." She turns her head back to the blonde. "You. Watch it! I've got my eye on you!" For dramatic effect she closes one eye and opens the other, somehow making it far larger than a simple wink.

Mitchie just gawks in total amazement. Actually that is something she wants to learn and badly! _Oh the possibilities! Caitlyn would _love, _love to see that!_

"ALLY!" Brit squeals in horror at the sight. "Fuck you! You know I hate it when you do that!"

"Good. Glad we had this lesson." Alex is thoroughly satisfied and the smug, thrilled look is one that Mitchie finds absolutely fitting on her adorable friend.

"Lesson indeed. Good to see you again Alex," a new accent says, growing in volume as it approaches. "Let us hope that you were able to maintain your talents. Preferably in a format that is in better stead than your girlfriend Brit here." The voice belongs to a tall young woman that looks to be no older than thirty. She has jet-black hair that is contained by a simple ponytail, ending mid-back. She wears noticeably worn blue jeans and an all white tank top. Her selection in clothing is based on being comfortable while being allowed free and easy mobility. White sneakers with hints of pink and cerulean add to her charisma. High cheekbones and sharp, intense green eyes converge to give an aurora of maturity. Despite her youth she has an authoritative presence.

Alex's delight is quite noticeable as she recognizes the person instantly. She breaks away from Mitchie and a sulking Brit. "Dash! I didn't think I would see you here!" Alex says with great gusto as another long hug ensues.

"Of course! You did not expect me to quit did you?" A flash of hurt traces Alex's face and Dash chuckles. "I should have known! But no, I am still here with no intention of leaving soon."

Careful eyes monitor and absorb everything, taking in all this accumulated knowledge. Mitchie 's head is spinning. It is very clear to her that clearly Alex knows these people, but why? Are they responsible for this…. this… setup? Are they part of the concert tonight? Curiosity is spiking and millions of thoughts race through her head in a million different directions. This is almost too much!

A familiar voice breaks Mitchie out of her trance-like state. "Mitchie, I'd like for you to meet my friend Dasha or Dash for short."

"Nice to meet you," she replies diplomatically. _Strange. I wonder if Brit is short for Britney. If so why not tell me that too? _

"Dash, this is Mitchie, my friend and fellow singer in crime." Mitchie grins at hearing the additional notes. She and Dash shake hands pleasantly.

"A pleasure," Dasha says. "I'm sure that if Alex is vouching for you then you must be gifted. She is rather particular about those she calls 'singers'."

Alex lets out the breath she has been holding in. "Must you always say that right off to my friends?" The complaint is laced with just the barest hints of a whine.

Dasha dismisses Alex's concern with a wave of her hand. "Now, now Alex, no need to be embarrassed. Nothing I said that isn't true. Besides, I'm sure Mitchie is rather appreciative of the compliment."

This is the truth. Mitchie is absolutely beaming at the praise.

Another comment is about to escape Dasha's open mouth but Brit interjects. "Look, hate to interrupt this love fest reunion but we do have a schedule to keep. You," she points at Dasha, "have a lot of work ahead of you in appraising their skill levels. We get to see just how much our whittle Ally remembers." Brit's voice is mocking, purposely like that of a baby's.

To add to the insult she violates the other girl's personal space and pinches her cheeks.

Before Alex is able to react Mitchie does so on her behalf, perfectly imitating the tone of voice from before. "I'm sure big girl Alex remembers plenty. Just like whittle Brit forgot how to be a decent, mature human being." Unlike Brit and solely pinching one cheek, Mitchie gets a good hold of both, she pulling them out to make an additional point.

When she lets go Brit steps back rubbing her sore face. "Not cool! Ally, you sure know how to pick'em."

Alex has a quick retort on the tip of her tongue but Dasha cuts her off. "Ladies, now is not the time. Brit get lost and do whatever it is that Brits do before a concert. Mitchie, Alex and I have some work to accomplish."

"Dash, you spoil all my fun!" Brit loudly protests.

The woman is obviously used to this as she holds her ground, offering a knowing smirk. "I try love. I try. You will see your girlfriend later. Now shoo!"

"I'll be back Ally! I'll be back to collect my piece of ass!"

"Not even in your dreams B!"

* * *

Time passes by rapidly, hours seem like minutes. The intensity is second to none. Mitchie and even Alex cannot recall ever having been worked this hard. While most of the period is spent determining skill sets, especially dancing, singing and instrument proficiency is also thoroughly tested too.

Dasha is very pleased with the girls and all they have been able to accomplish. She is even happier to discover that all that is required is refinement rather then outright learning a whole new set of choreography skills. If this were the case, as she'd feared, most of tonight's plans would have to have been changed

By the time a lunch break is called Alex and Mitchie are covered in sweat the cool down exercises doing little to ease superheated muscles. Tired neither says a word as they move into one of the backstage rooms where a basic buffet of sandwiches and salad has been set up. Dasha has disappeared temporarily, another facet of work taking over. Alex too is gone, she rushing off in the "pursuit of emptying her bladder."

Mitchie keeps a serene expression despite the overwhelming urge to laugh at the choice of vocabulary. _Who says 'emptying a bladder anyways'? _Without recognizing it she shakes her head in noiseless disbelief.

"Something funny?" Brit's blonde curls suddenly in front of the startled brunette. She hands a clean plastic plate to Mitchie. "Sorry didn't mean to surprise you like that."

"It's ok," Mitchie says taking offered plate. "Is lunch always like this?" She gestures to the lines already forming as other workers from various places and spots arrive. However, she has an ulterior motive in asking this; she doesn't want to explain to Brit why she was laughing formerly.

Brit's chest heaves with a great sigh. "Sadly, every day. Gotta feed the army to keep it moving." Fortunately having arrived just as the lunch break began few are standing in front of the pair.

"Food does make people happy." Mitchie's stomach rumbles in agreement as she approaches the first offering of fresh salad.

Brit is right behind Mitchie and fills part of her plate in a similar manner, grabbing a cup of soup for good measure.

Mitchie finds, much to her delight a delectable selection of sandwiches, various meats and vegetables encased in a long bread roll. Without hesitation she chooses the Italians, picking up two halves and placing them on her plate. Happy with her selection of goodies she looks around trying to find a convenient spot to devour her stash.

Brit solves the problem by tapping Mitchie on the shoulder with her pinkie, most of digits occupied holding her own piled-high-plate. "Follow me. I know a private spot that isn't so loud."

This seems appropriate so Mitchie nods following the blonde down another short hall way and into another room. A plain wood table is in the center surrounded by twelve wooden chairs, five on each side and one on either end. What is surprising is the open cooler filled with a variety of bottled drinks. Pleasant smells of sugar and cinnamon reach her nose too from what looks to be a freshly baked apple pie. Steam rises from the top of the crust in dangerously delicious warning.

Not choosy on where she sits she sets her plate down before sitting in the nearest chair. Brit does the same, only closing the door most of the way shut before taking the space next to her. Instantly the ambient volume decreases significantly.

"Thank you," Mitchie said before taking a bite of her sandwich.

To occupied by eating her own food Brit is only able to mumble.

"Sorry I don't speak gibberish." Mitchie says before her hand joins Brit's in the white plastic cooler. Brit selects a Pepsi while she opts for a bottle of water.

Brit wipes away the combination of tomato and oil from her lips. "Sorry 'bout that. Wanted to ask you how rehearsal went."

"Went well, I think." Mitchie swallows down another bite of her sandwich. "We aren't ready for J'adore Hardcore though. Something about not having the full range of dance moves."

"Don't take that the wrong way Mitchie. That is not an easy song to prepare for on the best of days. Look, you and Ally are good together but you haven't been given the greatest amount of time to prepare." Brit uses her fork to spear a big helping of salad into her mouth before continuing. "I wouldn't take it the wrong way."

Mitchie stops and looks at Brit, sandwich poised right in front of her mouth. "You saw us?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?" She responds knowingly.

"Well I assumed you were off doing other stuff."

Brit laughs, nearly spraying soda everywhere after having taken a rather big gulp. "I was for the most part," she giggles. "I wasn't able to see what you two were able to do until the last twenty minutes or so. I made sure to watch on one of the restricted catwalks so you wouldn't see me."

Mitchie has recovered from her speechlessness and resumed eating. "So not to distract Alex and me?"

She laughs again, this time wisely having not tried to drink right before hand. "Sure. Let's go with that explanation!"

Mitchie rolls her eyes. "You're crazy you do know that right?"

The wide grin on the other girls face tells Mitchie all she needs to know. "Crazy as a clown!" Suddenly Brit is digging around in her jeans pocket for something. "Damnit! This is what I get for wearing tight pants she complains before standing to resume her search."

"What are you looking for?" Mitchie inquires. This would be much more amusing if she wasn't so acutely aware of how difficult that task actually is.

"AH HAH!" Brit celebrates as she digs out two glossy pieces of paper out of her back pocket. "Found them!"

How Brit didn't realize that from the very beginning escapes Mitchie. Guess there is a reason she is a blonde. Mitchie is a bit spellbound by this facet and merely shakes her face in wonder. "What are you doing?" This wonder increases by a factor of ten when the shiny prints are held in front of her. "Uh huh… and what are those?"

"These, my friend are all access passes." Brit responds cheerfully, offering them again with more emphasis.

"Ok," hesitation and question is laced in Mitchie's voice. "What am I supposed to do with those?"

Brit exhales noisily. "I like you! You are such a comedian."

Mitchie does not see the hilarity and her features become less enthused. She focuses on finishing the rest of her sandwich all the while finding more and more reasons to glare at her newfound friend.

Brit catches on quickly. "Ok! Ok! Sorry! I honestly thought you knew!"

A cocked eyebrow is all Mitchie responds with and she somehow is able to keep the said expression all while drinking from her bottle. This is eerily reminiscent of the previous eye trick Alex demonstrated earlier in the morning. It has a similar reaction too.

"Damnit!" Brit turns her head away thoroughly dismayed. "Not you too! Fuck," she swears again. "Put that weapon away. Please!"

"Then quit being a dumb blonde playing stupid and tell me! I do _not _enjoy being kept in the dark!" Mitchie is at the end of her patience with Brit. _With Alex that's ok because she comes through for me. I'm not so sure about her._

_Ally, you bitch! Next time I see you we're going to have a little chitchat about etiquette. Teaching your friends how to torture your other friends is so against the rules!_ The loud tapping of fingers against the table breaks her out of her thoughts of cruel and unusual punishments for the other girl. She suddenly remembers about her explanation. "Ok, ok! Don't have to be so pushy!"

Mitchie waves a hand for Brit to continue. "I'm perfectly normal right now. You haven't seen pushy yet. So speak!"

"Those are passes that may be used either for VIP access into the Gardens or they may be used for exclusive online access into a restricted private feed. Anyone watching will be able to see the entire show in full HD, chat with other people who have the same privilege, talk to band members, all that kind of stuff." Brit clarifies, "Choose wisely though. Those things are not given out lightly. Each performer is only allowed one."

"Why do I have two then?"

"One for you and one for Ally."

"What is for Ally?" A very familiar voice interjects into the conversation. The other brunette takes a seat besides Mitchie.

"Alex!" Mitchie is animated, "I missed you! You're not allowed to leave ever again!"

This causes Alex to laugh before she leans over and briefly hug a very happy Mitchie. "I'll try not to. I'm sure Brit was causing plenty of trouble."

Whatever Alex says does not matter because Mitchie is suddenly aware at how warm the room has randomly become. She knows that feeling well and prays that her face is not crimson. _How can she not even say a word to me and I get like this?_

If Alex notices she doesn't make any indication. "So what is for Ally again?"

"YOU!" Brit's tone of voice is threatening and obviously aimed for Alex. "You and I have a little unfinished business to attend to."

"Brit? Did you get your panties in a twist again?" Alex calmly asks while munching away on a cookie, not caring at all about Brit and her 'business.'

Brit stands menacingly, her eyes throwing poison laced daggers. "Ally…"

Sensing the rising tension Mitchie interrupts by changing the subject. "Brit here gave us these!" She holds up the two concert passes blissfully. "Here, one is yours."

Alex shakes her head. "Keep it Mitch. I don't need it."

"But-" Mitchie pleads, trying to understand.

"No, keep it." Alex's voice turns hard, forceful. "They're both yours. I don't have any use for mine."

Mitchie opens her mouth to speak when another shock greets her first, Brit's hand on her shoulder. "Mitchie, don't. _Alex_," -that Brit uses her real name is not lost on the singer -"won't take them. Believe me, I've tried." Hurt and confusion flash through brown eyes.

Brit's blue ones waver, shaking just slightly enough along with her head to communicate that she doesn't have a clue either.

Silence fills the room save for the sound of food being munched and crunched. Any hostility between the girls, primarily Alex and Brit is forgotten. When everyone has finished lunch and is about to throw out their dishes Brit stops.

"Anyone want pie?" Merriment is evident in her voice and from out of nowhere she has produced a razor sharp knife, slicing into and through the crust easily.

"Pie?" Mitchie's eyes light up eagerly. "We get pie?"

Brit laughs, waving the knife at the girl in amusement. "Well, duh! What did you think this pie was for? Decoration?"

"Wait," Alex says just as Brit scoops out a big slice and places it on the plastic in front of Mitchie. "Who made this?"

"I did of course!" Brit gloats proudly before depositing another piece in front of Alex.

Alex is horrified and looks towards Mitchie. Her hand smacks away the fork loaded with filling and crust. "Mitchie! _Don't_ eat that!"

"Ow!" Mitchie rubs her hand while glaring at Alex. Brit mirrors her expression and looks at Alex for an explanation too. "Why did you do that?"

"Mitch. If you listen to me at all, you won't touch that pie, much less eat it!" Alex says while emphatically pushing her respective plate away.

A very upset Brit enters a staring contest with Alex, pupils hard and demanding. "Just what is so fucking bad about my cooking?"

"B, did you experiment again?"

Believing this to be a compliment Brit's mood changes to joy. "Well, of course! You know I love to cook!"

"Fuck!" Alex grabs her plate along with Mitchie's and tosses them both into the trash before another word may be said. "Look B, I'm saying this as your friend: Stop cooking. Your food is worse than shit. You're going to kill someone."

"I will not!" Brit gloats thinking she has won this argument. "Everyone loves my famous pie!"

"Your 'famous pie' is only famous because you used rotten crab meat, and a sizable portion of hair - your hair I might add - on the side." Alex rubs her forehead wearily. "The last thing I need is to get food poisoning again."

"I did _not_ do that!" Brit huffs angrily, taking out a piece for herself, determined to prove Alex, her archrival wrong.

"Brit, you made half the stage crew spend the night in the bathrooms clogging the plumbing. The other half spent the night with Helga the Hairy and Ted explaining how they ended up on cots thanks to your _wonderful_ crabs."

"EWWW!" Mitchie squeals in shock, suddenly _very_ thankful that Alex saved her from eating a hairy, crab pie.

"You think that is bad wait until you meet Ted."

"Who's Ted?" Mitchie isn't sure she wants to know the answer.

"Ted is Helga's mustache." Alex visibly trembles. Mitchie is very correct and shivers right along with Alex.

"Ally! You're full of shit like always!" Brit screams at her as she digs a fork into her creation, barely chewing the mixture in sheer contempt for Alex's deceitful words.

"Come on Mitch. Let's ditch. Last thing I want to see is Brit puking her brains out in the trash can again."

Brit has finished her first bite and makes a show of going for a second, heaping forkful. Her face turns a fabulous variety of shapes and colors. Eyes, nose, ears and mouth twist and flex as if playing a perverse game of Twister. Then her stomach joins in the fun, growling in anger, waves of nausea becoming overpowering.

"Back to rehearsal we go!" Mitchie hastily says before following Alex. She wants no piece of the poisoned pie! "Bye bye Brit! Thank you!"

Hand in hand Alex and Mitchie leave, closing the door just in time to hear her starting to empty her belly.

With one hand holding Alex's the other plays around the edges of the hallway. A thought enters Mitchie's mind. "Hey I'll meet you back on stage to finish up. I've got to find the girls room."

"'K. See ya in a few!"

As soon as Alex rounds a corner Mitchie takes out her cell phone and hits her speed dial. Three rings and someone picks up.

"Caity Cat! You picked up!" Mitchie someone manages to hold back the scream that so desperately wants to come out.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the person on the other end. "ITCHY!" Caitlyn screams, the pair reverting into long held nicknames into the phone. "I miss you! What's up lover? Tell me what's going on! One question melds into the next as Mitchie isn't even offered the chance to reply. "Find a boy toy yet?"

"Cait, CAIT!" Mitchie laughs as she is forced to interrupt. "Whoa, whoa, fast talker! Slow down and let me speak!" The voice on the other end turns mute. "Look! I don't have a lot of time, but you're getting a concert pass for tonight. I-"

"Wait!" Caitlyn interrupts in her joy. "Wait, I get what, when, where now?"

Mitchie grins from hearing the rapture coming from Caitlyn. "I'll explain everything I promise! But, my bestest, greatest, most wonderful friend in the whole world, I need a favor. Can you please do something for me?"

"Uh-huh…go on."

Mitchie rolls her eyes at hearing the reluctance in her best friends voice. _Caity knows me too well. I'm not going to prank her… this time! _"You see, I have a second pass and I need you to call some place. I would if I had time but I'm supposed to be back at rehearsals… like five minutes ago. Make sure they get the information I'm about to give you! Ok? This is important!"

"You're amazing Mitchie! For someone as brilliant at planning how you fail to manage your own time is incredible!" Caitlyn laughs precisely because this is such a rare incidence. "I'm kidding M! Tell me who and where! You know I'll do it!"

_Alex did all of this for me. _Ordinarily Mitchie would be giggling along too but she hasn't since a hard nervous lump has formed in her throat. _This is the least I can do for her… _She takes a deep breath to relax her vocal muscles enough to talk without her voice carrying any clue of dread."The Waverly Sub Station in New York City."_ Alex said we should trust each other right…? _That thought makes her calm and causes a smile to shine happily on her face. _All of this for the sake of a wonderful, loving friend._


	14. Chapter 14: Concert for Two

**Wow! Another update that didn't take forever and a lifetime! Hooray! **

**First, a HUGE THANKS to Lily Zen for catching a million-and-one things that I totally overlooked. This chapter needed some major corrective surgery and she fixed it! **

**Second, I've decided that if we can pass the 50 review mark you guys will get a special treat!**

**Third, thank you to disneylover21 for a couple ideas relating to Mitchie. You'll know the parts when you see it.  
**

**Ok! Last part, the disclaimer! I don't own Camp Rock, or Wizards of Waverly Place. I don't own or are affiliated with Scooter, his band or any of his songs including _Hello! It's Good to Be Back! _Ideas and inspiration were taken from a variety of youtube videos including but not limited to performances by Scooter's various performances at the Dome and Techno Inferno. **

**Incorporation and adaptation with Mitchie and Alex however, is my own.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Chants fill the stadium. Twenty thousand voices mingling into one sound wave, twenty thousand noises collide, converge, and blast through any reservations that Mitchie or Alex may have. Everything, all the work, effort, and energy spent since the morning is culminating into this single moment.

Without warning the scene changes. All of the lights go dark. Much like a scalpel through soft flesh, a single laser emerges from out of the darkness. Perfectly straight and a brilliant blue around the edges, the interior is white, a dazzling white, like a white star from amongst the pitch ink of space. With perfect timing an organ sounds, ominous classical music fills the arena; the kind one would expect in a horror movie as the villain claims another victim.

Mitchie and Alex are behind the stage, just out of eyesight. Between the roaring crowd and the pulsing speakers shaking the famous arena to its foundation, despite standing together, even if they were shouting into each other's ear directly, it would be nearly impossible to hear any semblance of normal conversation.

Both girls wear a thin translucent band of fiber optic cable. They may be worn like headphones but the similarities cease here. Being see-thru and hidden under both girls hair, the cable is invisible. Connected directly into highly specialized earplugs and fed by a small battery back on their belts, Mitchie and Alex are able to talk not only to each other but other band members as well even stagehands if necessary. While human ears alone may not pick up or even discern speech in such loud environments, technology does. Computers sort through all this data, filter it, and wirelessly transmit crystal clear audio back to the recipients.

Ears listen keenly to the gloomy track that paints a mental image that is in stark contrast to the luminous beam, everything that isn't hopeful or happy. Darkness purposely continues to engulf the stage and audience as the blue-white laser expands like a fan; one beam breaks into many, mimicking the rays of the sun.

"Mitchie-"

"Alex- " The names are spoken at the same time, causing both to smile. Alex gestures for Mitchie to go first. Instead of a word Alex is engulfed in a powerful hug. Mitchie's hands grasp Alex's upper back like a vice, pulling a very surprised Alex into her own body. Whatever shock the other girl may have dissipates as she returns the embrace just as fiercely.

As the organs evolve into traditional pianos, and then the anticipated electronic synthesizers, the harmony becomes more rapid, positive, quick, and throws the audience into frenzy. Another laser designator ignites, and its twin colored beam joins the first. Soon the two dance, fight, and cooperate in a display. Another pair adds their gleam to the organized maelstrom. Just when everything becomes monotonous, the true laser war begins, two-on-two, colors intermingling in an exchange that puts to shame the best of any light saber duels. All of this leaves the audience cheering, roaring, demanding more.

Yet all of this is a spectacular ruse, a distraction, something to keep the fans occupied while the performers move into place.

Mitchie allows the contact to continue for a moment before unhappily letting go, knowing that it had to be done. "I just wanted to say-"

A finger meets her lips, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "I know, Mitchie." Alex's voice echoes the statement, her feelings; their feelings, the grins are mirror images. "We've to go on in a moment. Tonight is for us, Mitch."

It didn't seem possible but the jubilance for each girl increases further, Mitchie's smile growing even larger much to the incredulity of Alex.

"Knock'em dead, Alex." Mitchie says as she watches Alex approach the curtain, the last barrier to being on stage.

She shakes her head, causing Mitchie to tilt her head slightly asking, or rather subtly demanding clarification.

"We'll knock'em dead. Together!" Alex responds giving Mitchie the thumbs up and a just barely visible wink.

"Together!"

As if planned from the beginning the light cueing them it is time starts to blink. Everything has been leading up to this point; everything they have striven for is based on a hope, a dream, and the devotion to create something wonderful. All of this jubilance begins with a green bulb being turned on. In that fraction of a second both girls move forward. They take their assigned spots, two small square enclosure made up of white curtains on either side of the stage, Mitchie going to the right while Alex goes to the left.

_This is it. _Mitchie is accustomed to seeing crowds. She is used to performing in front of large audiences. None of this, none of the practice, or speeches, or words of encouragement prepares her for the shock and exhilaration awaiting her as she steps on to the stage and into her assigned spot, guitar in hand. _Alex wasn't kidding when she said that this is a once in a lifetime experience! _

It does not matter that either girl is limited to a brief glimpse of the mass of living flesh so close by. Energy and emotion run high, exhilaration filling the air.

In a likewise manner, Alex realizes this too. _Fuck! This is nuts! This is either the most brilliant plan I've ever had, or it is going down in history as the worst damn mistake I've ever made! _

An endless sea of faces, heads, and risen arms move, sway, and gyrate to the melody. Each is distinctive in their own moments. Each has their own particular trait that makes them different than that of their neighbors, yet that doesn't change that all of them share one significant commonality: they are here for the concert of a lifetime.

Shock, awe, and even terror fill both girls as they fathom the true scope of what is expected of them. To entertain a crowd that is far larger, much more energized than anything either has experienced before.

With the prelude still going on in force the stage remains cast in black and grays, save for the sparse lights and here and there from the spotlights that occasionally brush the stage with the briefest of glimpses of radiance.

The music pauses, startling the audience into cheers as whistling fills the arena. Rockets scream from the opposite end of the hall and explode in a fantastic shower of sparks against the upper works of the stage. One, two, three, four, and on the fifth not only does the rocket explode, but pre-planned charges also ignite. A rectangle of brilliant white fire engulfs the platform as the huge LCDS and spotlights directly above the stage platform come to life.

Alex begins hitting at the snare and tapping her foot maniacally down on the pedal to power the hi-hat cymbal. This goes on for a few seconds to set the mood when another spectacular set of special effects is triggered.

HP appears from a trap door in another extravagant eruption of red and white. Pale white skin, short blonde hair clashes in utter contrast to the unzipped, black leather jacket. Silver spikes and rings decorate the material, and along with blue jeans and black sneakers, fully enhances his rebellious, 'bad boy' image. Spotlights and fire play off his figure, adding to the appeal. Fantastic font in a mix of yellow, red gradients streams right to left on the screens above.

_Hello! Hello_!

_It's good to be back. Good to be back. _

Instantly thousands of voices join in with the one coming over the microphone.

_**Hello! Hello!**_

_**Good to be back! Good to be back!**_

Heat assaults both girls as the sheer volume of flames in conjunction with the spotlights causes the temperature to rise incrementally.

_I'm back!_ HP continues to rap, moving through the starting portion of the song.

Hidden behind semi-transparent curtains, Alex and Mitchie cannot be seen although their shadows and movements are visible to the audience as silhouettes.

Mitchie may not be able to see specifically what is going on, but from the yells and colored lights seeping through the translucent drapes she is able to imagine. _Someday! Someday soon I will be the one to leap on to the floor like that in a volcano of lights to the sound of thousands cheering me on!_

All of the positive reinforcement from beyond hits Mitchie over and over again. She cannot help but begin to rock out in her own way.

While Alex is playing in perfect rhythm to HP's singing and the synthesizers, Mitchie is moving, dancing, her guitar in motion with her body as she sways. Her shadow-outlined figure gives the subtlest hints of what lies beyond, the most primal of glimpses of what could be to a crowd that is begging for more.

Within the primary stanza of the song Alex and Mitchie have captivated the audience; the lights, the music, the beats combine with mystery and awe that only serves to pour gasoline on an already raging wildfire of force of sentiment.

Through it all HP continues to speak.

_I say! _

The first verse ends and the chorus starts, HP now chanting witheveryone assembled once more joining in. Madison Square Gardens is transformed into a titanic dance hall.

Mitchie is ready with her guitar, and enters the fray on the first word with a power cord, one mighty strum against the strings of the instrument. Reverberations echo throughout the Gardens'. The audience as a collective whole is on their feet. They are jumping up and down, singing along with HP as he paces back and forth passionately.

_**Hello! Hello! Good to be back! Good to be back!**_

_I say!_

This phrase is reserved for him and him alone.

_**Hello! Hello! Good to be back! Good to be back!**_

The curtains are lifted from around both Mitchie and Alex. Alex breaks her stride as she rotates her body, hitting every tom-tom and cymbal with perfect clarity. Guitar and drum sound in absolute harmony, each strum; each strike perfectly timed as streams of sparks shoot from the front of the stage.

Mitchie is the image of a female rocker, fully decked out in black leather pants and boots. She wears a same color tank top too but unlike the former has a white circular pattern, almost floral in appearance made out of embroidered glitter and fake gems. With her hair down and unrestrained it is allowed to play, defying gravity as she moves about. Furthering the pictorial that she is a rocker and is beautiful.

Alex, despite having what may be considered a more conservative look must take into consideration that she is on drums. As a result she has on heavily faded blue jeans, so much so that they look almost white with a matching belt. While she does not have a tank top she is wearing a t-shirt, this one having a very large heart on the front. And like her boots, are black too.

No one is able to believe that the cheering actually grows louder as the audience realizes that not only are the two mysterious players not merely new, but also female, and highly attractive ones at that.

The spotlights move seamlessly between the two girls. Both demand attention but Mitchie, without being bound in one place is able to interact with the crowd on a level Alex cannot. The liveliness of the crowd soars higher as she dances and plays along with the song.

_Like a shotgun on the M.I.C_

_I float like a butterfly_

_Sting like a bee_

For the first time Mitchie understands the true influence that music retains. No matter how many times she has heard this song, the simple fact of standing on stage in this venue with such a performer makes adrenaline course through her veins and her heart swell.

**BEE**

The crowd shouts as HP gestures with the hand holding the microphone for them to finish.

That is _exactly_ how Mitchie feels too. She feels _like_ a bee. She feels _like_ she has regained her stinger, her sense of purpose, her sense of purpose, her personality, and most of all her pride.

Mark injured her spirit, damaged her soul, but both refused to be denied or die. When this did not succeed he tried to have her submerged under the greatness of Selena. That failed too. Intuitively, she realizes this, and for once, once in a long time she _is_ content. No. She is _happy_. This _is _where she is supposed to be; born to _live_ on stage and _live_ life as an entertainer.

Mitchie _feels_ like a rocker, and her playing reflects that. Moving down onto one knee, she makes exaggerated movements on the guitar, including the windmill. Hearing Alex's now familiar drum routine return, she cannot help but begin to bob her head up and down in rhythm with the fast beat.

Suddenly, and much to her pleasant surprise, HP is by her side, leaning over as the song breaks for a moment, the two head banging together. Flames illuminate both of their faces as vertical jets flare mere feet away, red scorching heat echoing all of the intensity and sentiment within her heart. Validation comes as HP places a hand on her shoulder before moving off to another part of the stage.

This is a sight that will always remain with Alex for the rest of her days: Her talented brunette friend's head moving up and down, hair moving in waves with the motion of her neck.

The LCD screens above do not miss this either and broadcast both girls' performances for everyone to see, every facial detail, every movement; Mitchie's rocking, leather-clad body, and Alex's snakelike flexibility as she skillfully manipulates the drums. The sheer intensity and force of the instruments shatter everyone's expectations of what constitutes great expertise. The raw talent in both girls is obvious and elevates the song and band far above what the audience was anticipating. Instead of viewing two simple, backup performers the spectators see two special individuals with a passion and devotion to the music that at least mirrors that of the headliner.

Alex does not care that her microphone isn't transmitting to the audience. She cannot help but sing along.

Mitchie is doing the same.

_**Hello!**_

Save for a few select lines, like moths to flame, the mobs below follow suit.

_**Hello! **_

_Did you miss me?_

HP's forceful voice again breaks through the riot just off stage. Now that he is vocally guiding the masses he now he now directs the crowd's movement by swinging an elevated hand left and then right. In seconds everyone is following along, jumping to the pulse-pounding bass.

Likewise Mitchie, when her guitar or the mesmerizing crowd doesn't absorb her attention, is able to sneak peeks at Alex. Unlike in some of the performances she saw where Alex was a broken singer this is the utter opposite. Dark hair gyrates and plays in perfect sync to her upper body movements as she reaches to and fro, hitting snares, cymbals, and tom-toms. Without question the single biggest change is the optimism and liveliness radiating off of the girl. All of this positive change shows in her playing as Alex is lost in the music, and wails on the drums with a renewed sense of devotion. _I needed this, _she thinks. _I needed this badly. _

_I say_

_**Good to be back**_

Mitchie's guitar is assaulting her mind along with the constant hypnotic melody coming from the synthesizers. Alex's train of thought continues; bolstered by everything that is racing through her mind like the finest of alcohol. _God, I missed feeling like this, like myself, like I'm doing something I love instead of a chore! _Words that have little meaning in the past suddenly take on an entirely new connotation. In Alex's mind this is the start of the end of Mark's world.

_**Good to be back.**_

To her this is how a live performance should be. This is how a performer should act, feeding off the energy generated by audience in response to the people on stage. The lyrics being chanted by HP and shouted by the audience reinforce this notion into her head, so much so that she pours, or rather hits all these feelings into her playing. It does not matter that what she is doing is, according the sheet music, incorrect. What does is that whatever she conjures up on the drums sounds good.

_**Hello! Hello!**_

In Alex's own special way, she has turned a mundane score into something unique, wholly hers, and most importantly, memorable. Alex announces that she has returned to life, brought back from the edge, and is now actually alive, mind, body, and soul. This is her tribute of screaming to the world that she is alive, well and truly happy doing what she does best.

_Did you miss me?_

Together the girls create a performance equal to the synthesizers that are omnipresent at every concert. New looks, combined with charm and skill generates an atmosphere that is unparalleled, and reactions from the audience reflects this.

_**Hello! Hello!**_

HP in conjunction with the powerhouse duo makes a cycle that has no end, crowd and performer feeding off one another. More significant than the former is that Mitchie and Alex are able to anticipate not only each other, but also the subtle tones, shifts, and note changes occurring within the background harmonies too. Being so new at this genre and being able to perform with such flawlessness is not simply talent, but a gift.

_**Good to be back!**_

As the song reaches its final conclusion all the instruments roar to life in a final, spectacular moment of lights, pyrotechnics, and vocals as everyone on stage and in the crowd yells one single word:

_**YYYYEEEAAAHHH!**_

White-grey smoke clouds the stage as the remnants of fireworks and artificial fog lingers, spotlights re-adjusting as HP waits for the assembly to quiet. Over twenty thousand fans scream as Mitchie and Alex move from their places.

HP gives each a simple nod as they make their way off the stage, disappearing into the back quietly.

"Glad to be back in America. I know it has been several years since our last performance in Chicago…" HP states as he addresses everyone.

By then Alex and Mitchie have descended the stairs, and are walking down a hallway towards the dressing rooms.

"I can't believe we just did that Alex!" Mitchie gushes in rushed, excited tones. "That was _**insane**_!"

"I know!" Alex responds worse for wear. She brushes away some of the sweat-laced hair that has fallen onto her face back. "We aren't done yet. We've got…" Alex pauses as she stops to look at the watch on her wrist.

"About thirty minutes, " Mitchie completes.

"Which isn't much time." They pair speak together, and both to giggle.

"Guess we had better find the dressing room, huh?" Alex says while walking, looking this way and that as they reach an intersections.

"Why? Easier to just follow the signs." Mitchie makes her point rather blatant by tapping a sign posted on the wall. Alex having spoken about the dressing room in the singular rather then the plural passing over her head.

Alex frowns. She never was great with directions. "You just had to go and say that, didn't you?" She isn't truly upset and her banter reflects this sentiment.

Wisely, Mitchie decides to remain quiet rather than offer ammunition that she is well aware Alex is more than willing to use against her. Instead she drapes a heartfelt arm around the other girl's shoulder, pulling them closer together.

"I love you, Lex!"

"Love you too, Mitch."

Now is the time to strike, and Mitchie grins evilly, adrenaline still coursing through her veins like lava. "Now that you've declared your everlasting love for me, how about making it count by racing me to the dressing rooms? "

"What are you-" Before Alex is able to finish Mitchie is off like a rocket. "CHEATER!" She yells as she jets off in Mitchie's wake. _I can't believe she isn't wearing heels! The one, ONE time I might actually be happy about seeing them, of _course _it doesn't happen! Fuck this! _"Get your ass back here!"

Of course, Alex's brain just has to have the last laugh and merrily conjures up all sorts of thoughts, primarily of all the terrifically wonderful things that _may _happen behind the closed doors of say, a dressing room.

"NO!" comes the predictable response as Mitchie speedily keeps ahead of the brunette.

Alex skids around a corner as a blurry Mitchie zooms to the left, still ahead of her opponent by a wide margin. _Damn it! I _HATE _losing! _She won't ever admit this but losing to Mitchie isn't _that_ bad, but her reputation won't ever allow her to say as much.

Embroiled in her thoughts, Alex isn't paying attention and nearly runs into her highly amused fellow performer. She manages to avoid falling, but she does end up stumbling to a halt, Mitchie's arms assisting her stop.

"Why," Alex pants, out of breath, "did you do that?"

"'Cause it seemed like fun!" Sensing an argument brewing, Mitchie cleverly navigates around the emotional hazard by using a long perfected skill a dazzling, beautiful smile. However, this is for Alex, so in addition to the former she also receives the free benefit of having 'cute puppy' mixed in. "You didn't have fun?" Mitchie deviously makes her smile turn into a pout.

"I…" Alex is at a loss for words as the gleaming white weapons known as teeth make their presence known. Mitchie's face lights up into a picture that far exceeds the most wonderful of Christmas trees. A soft hand not her own brushes back hair that she never realized fell into her eyes, and is the last straw. She does the only thing she can do. She sighs, "Kinda…"

"Kinda?" Mitchie doesn't want a one-word answer and is determined to get more. "I'm looking for more than 'kinda'." To emphasize the point she pokes Alex teasingly in the stomach.

That action is the last thing needed to extinguish whatever remnants of agitation or anger that Alex has within her. "Ok! Ok! I admit it! I loved it! Especially skidding along the hallways! Go easy next time? 'K? I forgot how much it sucks to do that in boots."

_Score! Victory! _Mitchie celebrates happily within the confines of her mind. "I promise, Alex. Cross my heart and hope to die." This brings a silly grin to both faces as Mitchie goes through the actions of doing just that.

"Har. Har. Har." Alex isn't buying the facade and is able to see right through the ploy. "I'm sure you will, Miss Lies-A-Lot."

"Alex! Come on!" An expression of outrage and shock is evident on her face. "That hurts! Right, here!" Mitchie jabs a finger into her chest.

The other girl continues to remain stoic in her stance. This time Alex crosses her arms. "Whatever you say, Miss Cheater-Who-Lies-A-Lot. Just for that stunt we now have twenty minutes to get changed."

Eyes widen in surprise. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yup. And since the powers that be only had one dressing room available to give us we don't have time to take turns." Alex responds while poking Mitchie back. "We so we get to share the room.

Mitchie shrugs. "No big deal. I mean, we already share a room. It isn't like you have anything different then I do." _Except that we haven't even seen the other get changed before, or wearing that much less then street clothes. _Inwardly, Mitchie's brain cringes. Not in horror or anxiety, but at the possibility of seeing more, much more of Alex than she ever imagined. That very idea makes her heart beat faster. It takes all of her effort to avoid the crimson blush that always tends to appear at the most inconvenient of times.

Fortunately for Mitchie's sake, Alex unlocks the door with her key card and enters. When Alex breezes by her arm comes in contact with the other girls. The contact is electrifying. Static shock causes one to gasp and the other to utter a startled 'Ow'.

"Crap! Sorry! Mitch." Alex responds as she moves into the small room, grabbing one of the piles of clothing.

"Don't worry about it." _Saved by shock. That's a new one! _"I think I'll live." Mitchie smirks. _Seriously! Thank you, Alex , for saving me from turning red!_

By now Alex has disassembled her pile of clothes, and is looking at each garment individually. Mitchie steps over and begins to do the same.

"Wow. This wasn't quite what I was expecting," Mitchie says while picking up the little black shorts with the slightly longer skirt sown around the top. The item was obviously chosen to allow both to dance freely without having voyeuristic fans looking in places they shouldn't. "Urrggh! I _hate_ skorts!"

Similarly, Alex is looking at the black t-shirt. Three narrow cuts are across the midriff allowing most of the stomach to be exposed. "Don't get too hung up on it. Like it or not we're still sex symbols for this one. We just happen to be…" she tries to think of a word but falters.

This isn't enough for Mitchie because now her curiosity is piqued. "We just happen to be what?"

"Stylish sex symbols!" Alex giggles after sitting down.

Mitchie has already beaten Alex (again!) and is beginning to take off her footwear. "Come on stylish and sexy if we don't hurry we don't get to do anything but be disappointed."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Alex mumbles, not thrilled about that line of thinking. She doesn't let it show, and instead re-directs her effort into changing. Before long everything is off save for her jeans and black t-shirt.

Mitchie is seconds behind her friend, and the girls, as if on cue, stare at each other, silent.

Alex is the first one to break the ice. "We might as well just do it. Like you said, I've got nothing that you don't."

"Yeah. It will be just like gym class all over again." Mitchie nods although she still turns around as she begins to pull off her shirt.

"I skipped that class," Alex tosses her now removed top to the side. "A lot," she amends while reaching for the new one. What she doesn't say is that this isn't exactly a new routine for her at all. Some of her performances have required costume changes, and while rare enough, this same predicament has occurred.

For Mitchie though, this is a new experience entirely. If she is nervous she does not show it at all in the least.

Out of common decency both have their backs turned to one another. Mitchie though, cannot help but give in to the little devil screaming in her head. A quick, subtle turn of the head allows her a glimpse at the beautiful, black bra clad, girl. By giving into this guilty pleasure she receives all the consequences of it too.

Her mind cannot help but inquire what it would be like to caress all of her warm, soft body, to feel Alex against her, skin on skin; the feel of their lips crashing together, tongues dancing. Liquid heat rapidly builds inside as her imagination goes even further. She has heard Alex sing but her brain cannot help but wonder what the voice would sound consumed by the throngs of passion.

_Holy hell, Mitchie! Get a grip on yourself!_ So surprised is Mitchie by the visuals it takes her no time at all to complete getting dressed. She pulls on the black thigh highs and matching shoes.

Alex is far more methodical in her movements. That does not change the fact that she too cheats. The happy pitchfork-holding-character-in-her-head always seemingly able to get the last word is no different. With Mitchie as close to being nude as she can without actually being naked, the full grace and elegance of her figure is apparent. This time, instead of being dirty and intimate, the thoughts come forth wondering what the two could become. The girl is special to her in so many ways. She feels the friendship; the strength that lies between them and that connection is deep. The question is simply how far and to what depth this relationship will traverse within each girl's heart.

Alex shakes her head, trying to clear it. _No. Now isn't the time. Focus on the present. Tonight is for us. I'm not going to go and wreck it! No. Way. In. Fucking. Hell! I did _**not**_ wake up at O'dark-hundred for nothing!_

Neither girl may realize what is happening to the other, the way each other's simple presence is causing hearts to race, thoughts of all shapes and sizes to playing inside their minds freely. Neither makes out that the thoughts running through one mind are being replayed in the other. The result is both suddenly speeding up, rushing through the dressing process.

Mitchie is putting on her pink belt while Alex finishes pulling on her long, fingerless gloves. The soft material reaches down to her forearms. Once done, both are mirror images, clothing-wise, to the other. The two take a minute to look each other over. A belt is fixed here, hair is adjusted there, microphones placed back on heads. Everything is set once more.

"Looking good, Mitch. We'd better get going. We've got less than ten before we go out," Alex says with anticipation.

"Lead the way."

"Oh, and Mitchie?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"I did not make myself pretty like this just to have you go and ruin it for me by racing again," Alex warns, eyes staring accusingly.

The threat isn't real, and Mitchie scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Miss Snores-A-Lot".

Alex's eyes widen. "I do _not_ snore!"

"Whatever you say, Miss Lies-A-Lot." Mitchie offers another dazzling smile as a peace offering. "Whatever you say." This thoroughly irritates Alex, just as Mitchie predicts. What she does not expect is to find herself bouncing off the neighboring wall, the girl next to her having shoved her rudely in retaliation. "What was that for?"

"For teasing me!" Alex gripes, now happy that they are even. "Are we done now?"

With a flick of her head Mitchie motions for Alex to start walking, taking off herself before Alex can gather her wits. She easily catches up and matches Mitchie's stride. "With you? Never," Mitchie teases.

The groan coming from the girl next to her makes Mitchie giggle. "Love you, Lex!"

"Don't rub it in." She pouts with great exaggeration, arms crossed, a frown creasing her lips. "I hate you so much right now!"

Mitchie laughs again before bringing an arm around Alex's shoulders much the same way she did earlier. "No, you don't. You _wub_ me. I'm your special girl friend."

"I…Gah…You…" Alex tries to come up with words but cannot. If Mitchie were more familiar with Alex's family then she would have recognized the stammering as something inherited from her father. _Why do I always find the strangest people as friends? _For once the headstrong, stubborn, in your face, smart-talking, lie-conjuring rebel is speechless. _Why for once can't I do something that is normal? For once!_

"Cat got your tongue?" _This is fun! _Mitchie is biting the inside of her lip to keep from giggling. _I could do this _all_ day!_

Finally the frustration building in Alex breaks through, and Mitchie finds herself going into the wall again. Apparently though, she forgets that Mitchie's arm remains around her shoulders. With the expected shove Mitchie only needs to tighten her grip slightly to ensure that the other girl comes along for the ride.

Brown eyes meet brown eyes as the two begin a staring contest. Alex's fierce orbs meeting Mitchie's tranquil ones and after a moment the hostility ebbs out of them; lost in the serenity that her friend is projecting.

Mitchie brings her hand into Alex's once more. She brings the wrist not her own to her lips and kisses the back of it. "Peace?"

A subtle gesture to say the least, but it still leaves a deep lasting impression. Warmth floods Alex's body and she fights to control the blood she is sure is rushing to her face. Hopefully, the weary sigh masks the feelings on her face. "Yeah, peace." A smile appears on her face. _Fuck! Not working!_ This time she backtracks and attempts a far more direct tactic. She turns, startling Mitchie, and with a quick jerk hugs the other girl in a great embrace, even if it is brief.

"For now!" Both girls respond in a fit of laughter before separating.

"I needed that!" Alex says as she smoothes down her shirt. Mitchie nods in agreement, not seeing that Alex glances at her wristwatch in the process. "But now we've really got to move. We may have to race after all!"

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**Before you start screaming, remember how I said that this chapter (along with the previous) was initially one massive block of text? Well, something happens in the next one that you've all been wanting and waiting for. Help me surpass big 5-0 please!**


	15. Chapter 15: Concert of Admissions

**Big thanks to my awesome beta friends Lily and Ais for helping me sort out the ending!**

**Happy birthday to disneylover 21 party on!**

**Congratulations to xxS and everyone else who graduated this year!**

**NickiMinajlover you kept me sane during some difficult spots! You rock!**

**A HUGE thank you to everyone else who has supported and helped me I owe you guys big!**

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**I'm going to keep this short and simple. I'm not sure when the next update is going to come. Between school and life kicking me in places that really shouldn't I'm not operating at anywhere near where I want to be. **

**However, I promised you a surprise and here it is. TWO prequels, one for Alex and one for Mitchie are in the works. I should be able to roll them out relatively soon despite all the chaos.**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Camp Rock, Wizards of Waverly Place, or Lemonade Mouth. I don't own or am affiliated with Scooter, his band or any of his/their songs including **_**J'Adore Hardcore**_** or **_**Jigga Jigga**_**. **

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**Chapter 15**

Mitchie leads the way through the corridors. Eyes spot signs well in advance and which arrows point to where. With Alex next to her it seems like as good of a time as any to ask a question that has been at the forefront of her mind.

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"How come it seems like no one knows who we are?" Mitchie inquires while rounding a corner. "I mean I can understand why no one has a clue who I am, but you. You've been performing much longer then I have. Your face should be pretty recognizable."

"Aww! You recognize my face! I'm so touched!" Alex swoons happily eager to enact a bit of revenge for the fun Mitchie had earlier at her expense. This time it is Mitchie's turn to smirk. This time it is Alex's turn to get shoved into the wall.

Laughing Alex recovers quickly before flashing a grin back at her friend. "Ok, I had that coming to me."

"Yes. Yes you did. I figured it was about time for you to have some personal wall time." Mitchie grins.

Alex pouts. "Only personal? Aww," she snaps her fingers in disappointment. "I was hoping more for like… one-on-one."

This confuses Mitchie, "One-on-one?"

"Yeah!" Alex responds with great animation while what may only be classified as hardcore imagery devilishly plays through her brain. "One-on-one! Like up close and personal, and in the upright and vertical position!"

"Oh my god!" Mitchie is shocked at the double entendre and she flushes a furious red, covering her face with her hands as peals of laughter escape, Alex joining in beside her.

The laughter fades after a painful minute of struggling for breathe and aching sides. Mitchie's blushing face on the other hand is only slightly beginning to return to its normal hue. "I can't believe you said that!"

In a very wise decision Alex decides not to comment on her tomato-impersonating friend. Instead she changes the subject. "It's a good thing I love you Mitch." She says while wrapping her arm around the other girl casually. "Not many people are able to bring out that side in me."

"Which side o-pal-o-mine? "Mitchie smiles as an evil glint builds in her eyes. "The mildly crazy, the rebel, the evil, the lunatic, the prankster, the pervert or all of the above."

"Ok," giggling bursting from Alex as she smacks Mitchie in the stomach playfully with the back of her hand. "I had that coming to me too. Meanie!" After a moment she becomes serious. "In answer to your question about why no one seems to know us is we're basically not popular enough.

"I don't get it. Like I said before. I'm still really new but you've been on stage for much longer. Shouldn't someone in the audience be able to pick you out?" Mitchie inquires, not following Alex's logic at all.

"One might think that I've made it big Mitch, but in truth I haven't been in the music scene long enough to have gained a big following." Alex sighs as she explains. "I'm… we're far from being household names. Performing in smaller arenas with a capacity of maybe 5,000 is very different then being in one of 10 or 20,000. To say nothing of selling out, which doesn't happen very often. In a lot of ways it is a popularity contest. We're growing, but we still aren't _that_ big. You also have to keep in mind that this isn't our typical genre of music."

Mitchie gives Alex another puzzled look that informs the other girl that she is going to have to clarify.

"Right now we're performing for an artist who specializes in electronica, eurodance and techno right?"

"Uh-huh, so?"

Alex rolls her eyes in amusement, detecting the slight hint of impatience in the voice. _Oh Mitchie! You and your curiosity! _"Well, most of those people are probably very devoted to that particular kind of music. There is a good chance that most have never even heard of us, forget having even seen what we look like. To them, it doesn't matter that we've been performing or for how long. I mean, unless our name is like Taylor Swift or Justin Bieber it's going to be like as if this was the first time we've gone on stage.

"I'm sure that a few might have heard of us, maybe even seen one of our shows. But I have to imagine that those people are definitely in the minority. You've got to remember that we tend to focus on alternative, rock, and pop rock. There isn't a lot of overlap in the concert tonight with our concerts and singing and bands. Not to sound terrible, but as far as the audience is concerned we're the representatives of America. We're the all-American female icons for stylish and sexy and help to make Scooter look good since the group is German."

Mitchie takes all of this in quietly before nodding in understanding. The explanation does make sense after all. "Is that a good thing?" Being a new face I mean?"

"We really won't know until we go out again." Alex gives Mitchie a shrug even though the other girl wants more. "That is one of those double-edged sword kind of things. If we do very well we get lots of brownie points. If we don't we get booed off stage."

Mirth sparkles in Mitchie's eyes at this comment. "They wouldn't do that!"

"Maybe." Alex's grin matches her friends. "You never know, but something tells me we won't have to worry about that. After our first appearance they seemed to like us. So I think we're safe." Alex says with confidence. "I love performing, but sometimes it is kind of nice to have a change of pace. I must admit though that not being the headliner is different."

This time it is Mitchie's turn to shrug. "For me it is almost the reverse you know? I'm always performing right before you my silly singer." Her enthusiasm turns into mock horror as the other girl playfully hits Mitchie in the shoulder. "You have boney knuckles you know that?" she says while rubbing the 'sore' spot for effect.

"Stop teasing me then!" Alex pouts, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a great imitation of a much younger girl not getting her own way.

"Sorry. You're just too cute to stop." Mitchie offers Alex a smile while draping an arm around her shoulders. "Now before you so _rudely_ interrupted me/ I was going to say that although, we aren't the lead singing performer; technically we are _in_ the headline act since we get to be on stage with Scooter. We're just on backup vocals and dancing instead."

A huff is the closest to an reaction Mitchie is going to receive from Alex, but the way she is pressing closely together says more then words ever could despite Alex giving it a shot. "It's a really good thing I love you Mitchie," she reiterates once again. "But we've got to refocus. It is almost that time again."

The conversation causes what seems like a long distance to pass quickly. And in a span of time much shorter then before they reach there assigned entrance points.

Even though they are on a level below the stage the sound of music grows louder. Soon the bass is felt through the floor making their bodies almost pulse.

Mitchie isn't paying much attention to this and continues forward much to Alex's alarm. A sign up ahead is quite dire in its caution. In typical warning sign style it is white, bordered with black. In big red letters "Ear Protection". With the continuous sonic booms radiating from the speakers above there heads, exposure to those noises for long is a great way to become very deaf. Alex does not want this to happen. Nor does she have any intention of allowing Mitchie to get hurt either.

That is why Alex, in a rather more dramatic fashion then she intends pulls Mitchie to a stop by the shoulder. With the racket already loud enough to make talking difficult Alex resorts to merely pointing at the sign above.

Mitchie's eyes widen as she smacks a hand into her forehead. _Crap!_ _Saved by Sexy!_ She hides the smirk that is dying to come out at the sudden thought about her fellow singer. Fortunately her merry wet dream is cut off before it has a chance to begin. Alex's skilled fingers find the master control box situated just to the right of Mitchies' spine. Quickly, and with great skill the girl re-adjusts the shirt and tucks the fabric back into place so that once more the noise canceller is out of sight.

The timing is amazing because after the needed few seconds for the technology to fully activate passes, music from the stage returns only in tones far more pleasant and tolerable to human ears. Apparently they caught HP in the middle of one of the songs. His forceful rapping bolstered by electronic beats.

_Be headstrong! Never be weak!_

Despite not being on stage the vocals are transmitted in order for both Mitchie and Alex to hear as well as see – via a wall mounted monitor – what is going on. Since neither goes out until the finale of the song it is essential both be on queue and prepared well in advance.

_No surrender! No retreat! _HP continues. The hard beats have the floor vibrating with the energy.

"Thank you Alex! I can't believe I was about to go out there like that!" Michie's voice broadcasting over whatever is happening in the background, but to only Alex.

_Speak no lie!_

An electronically extended and disjointed voice holds as one massive, long note. Moving up and down in pitch as an additional layer of background harmony to HP's words.

"I can. You're excited. I am too." Alex states this factually. "If it weren't for that big ass sign I would have merrily followed you and by the time we realized what was going on. It would have sucked."

_I tell the truth!_

Oh well. We lived!" Mitchie gushes happily. "Best for us to get into positions again. You ever done this before?"

_Time will tell ya!_

By this point the two girls are where they are supposed to be and with not a second to spare.

_Who is who!_

Alex shakes here head as she separates from Mitchie. Spaced apart each girl stands on a large, silver metal rectangle outlined by yellow. Eyes glued to the monitor once again.

The music shifts again as HP begins belting out the last portion before they re-enter.

Lyrics once more take on special meaning as the full depth of what HP is saying finds purchase within brains searching for reason and understanding. For the first time both girls realize something that they have been avoiding in one-way or another. The pair is unequivocally bound together. Whether you call it fate or destiny it does not matter.

"Thank you for this gift, for this night. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you." Mitchie's voice is full of sincerity, her dark eyes turning glassy as the impact of what is transpiring begins to hit home. "I love you Lex."

The truth is that tonight is revealing the heart of the other. Alex has laid out everything possible on the slightest whim, on the complete gamble of finding something that may never be taken away. Mitchie reveals a personality that is able to accept, nurture and cajole a fallen friend through anything. Mitchie is pure and through her actions Alex is able to heal. Alex is able to give Mitchie confidence and her dreams.

"Don't. This is for us, remember?" Alex responds with great tenderness. "I love you too Mitch."

Two minds, two hearts, two girls, one single thought and feeling; eyes soften and water, powerful emotions are driven to the surface and as their eyes meet, across thirty feet of open space they realize that nothing will drive them apart.

_Words to hit you-like a laser._

Perhaps it is a sign of the future because HP sings along to the warm sentiment filling each girl. Genuine smiles show brilliantly, the air is filled with love and passion as a timer begins its countdown. Ears listen intently, getting ready to reappear on a stage where careers become made, acts immortalized, legends made and dreams fulfilled.

_It's free the sweet one, the short and the brief one! _ HP shouts. Despite having listened to this song many times over neither Alex nor Mitchie have a clue what HP is referring too and it doesn't matter. The platform beneath their feet is moving upwards.

Explosions rock the borders of the stage. White, yellow and red merge and creates a portrait in flames around the metalwork. At the same time Alex and Mitchie appear on stage but remain largely hidden. Two devices activate as the hidden elevators stop. A wall of flames shooting several times the girl's height billows forth, looking very much like the three prongs on the end of a trident. The twinjets, unlike those formerly, do not dissipate immediately. Instead they remain constant.

_Jigga Jigga!_

_Skip to the dip now!_

Only after ten seconds pass does the scorching heat cease, lowering as the spotlights above turn from blue and yellow to green and white.

_What we say!_

_Jigga Jigga_

The crowd cheers with unbelievable roars as the forms of Mitchie and Alex grace the LCDs again. The girls have the same pose, feet equally spaced apart, bodies square, and chests thrust out proudly. Alex has her left arm raised to the ceiling. Mitchie her right, hands fisted, waiting for HP to complete his rant and their real purpose to begin.

_Welcome to the main arena!_

Mitchie is shocked. Adrenaline is coursing through her body with speed. Brown eyes sweep over the crowd uninhibited. Unlike before she has the opportunity to study and look without a distractive instrument. People, a sea of living, breathing people, like an endless parade that never stops.

Simply knowing that she is part of this spectacle, part of something amazing, able to give such incredible enjoyment and happiness makes everything else secondary. _No. Not everything, everything else but Alex._ That single name is rapidly growing into something much more and her heart knows it.

Whistling rockets whizz past the stage again, this time from the sides, moving horizontally. They trail red smoke before bursting in the same color as if in celebration of Mitchie's realization.

_I've always been the party pleaseer!_

Instantly the hard synthesized beats return and everyone and everything is moving.

Alex and Mitchie dance as one, perfecting their movements not only to each other but also to the specific rhythm of the song.

Left punch, right punch, raise right knee, raise left knee, step forward, shoulder forward, step forward; step back. Practiced movements evolve into a greatly elevated art form. What should be mechanized movements becomes fluid, vibrant, living; dazzling.

When the music speeds up so do they. When the music slows down, so do they. Every kick, every spin, every raised arm or flick of the head is deliberate.

_Yeah! _HP screams, finishing the beginning verse before moving off, walking towards the back of the stage, fading into the background. The girls now become the focal point as the song dramatically slows. Alex and Mitchie close the distance between them as spotlights converge on the pair exclusively.

The wonder in the moment is palpable as everyone watching collectively holds his or her breaths. They anticipate the pair to dance to a synthesized electronic recording but instead Alex sings. Her amazing voice breaking through the anticipation like a stone thrown through glass.

_Full of light_

Mitchie's hand reaches out to touch Alex's cheek as the pair begins a highly seductive dance around the other.

_From distant flame_

Alex sways to the left while Mitchie goes to the right. Their bodies touch in the most minute of ways. Skin-touches-skin when the girls brush together.

_There's sunlight fading_

Alex moves her mouth close to Mitchie's head. Turning her partner just slightly enough so that her lips deliciously tease her friend's earlobe. Hot air kissing Mitchie's already superheated skin in a way that thrills her to the depth of her core.

_Autumn leaves in the rain_

Panting Mitchie is eager for the chance to return the 'favor' that Alex just proffered. Moving so that she is behind the other girl she allows her hands to run down her friend's body. Down Alex's shoulders, sides, slowly, so slowly that it is almost painful, until they come to rest on Alex's hips.

_If you call I will be there!_

Shouts from beyond come to life realizing that for the first time two voices and not one sing the final line of the chorus. As far as anyone may remember this has never occurred. Usually what is heard is an electronically modified human voice that literally alters in pitch with the twist of a dial on a soundboard or touch of a synthesizer. With Alex now singing, taking the lead, the pair literally is elevated into the spotlight, temporally becoming the leaders, the headliners, the fill-in for HP. That is why he left the stage. To leave the girls to do what they do best: astound and amaze; bringing forth a level of passion and level of pleasure that most performances hope to become.

The audience roars their approval because the blended female voices reinvigorate the well-known song into something utterly special, unique and wholly their own. They have declared that they will stand out, that they will not be quiet and dissipate quietly into the night. No, this is the location of legends and small a part they may play; every single person will remember them, no one will forget their face.

Alex and Mitchie use this to their advantage, turning so they now are facing each other. Dancing unhurriedly, eyes fill with excitement, longing and adoration. The potent emotions visibly mirrored deep within pupils not her own. Together they clasp hands moving in a tight circle. Mitchie's hand is on Alex's waist; Alexs' is on Mitchie shoulder. She places pressure on the hand and guides Mitchie forwards so that she bowing towards the crowd with her head down. Alex carefully leans against her friend, placing both hands on Mitchie's tailbone to act as a counterbalance. Mitchie, for her part extends both arms straight outwards to either side, swaying them in time with the slow music.

As if a reflection of the elegance on stage click is heard. A waterfall of yellow sparks falls from the ceiling. The golden fire creates a perfect backdrop for the dancers, neither girl having stopped in their movements for a second.

In a move that appears completely practiced Mitchie pulls herself upwards solely by the muscles in her abdomen. When upright she grabs Alex's face, a hand on each cheek. Turning her head so that their eyes meet again, the heat between them rises once more the windows into souls happily connects. Mitchie only making these feelings worse as she moves her mouth even closer to Alex, perilously close.

Alex is rooted in place and isn't sure anymore whether this is play or real, dance or lustful passion. Her heart is beating so hard and quickly she is sure that everyone may hear it. She wants their lips to meet, to feel the contact and just when she expects it to come it never does.

The next phase is painful. Forced to break apart, return to there own part of the stage. Neither wants this to happen and instead of doing what is expected, do not.

Drums and synthesizers announce soon-to-be return of HP and the girls have no choice but to comply with the song. Mitchie's smiles but in the expression her eyes show clouds, fogged by tenderness, yearning and enthusiasm for one person: Alex.

Ordinarily the jumpers – dancers – who participated in this song would have happily dashed to the opposite sides. Contrary to this Alex and Mitchie don't. They delay out the process as much as humanly possible. Neither has any desire to follow the prepared schedule as they predatorily circle one another in slow seductive moves.

More hard notes echo throughout the arena. At the least crucial moment before breaking apart and having to go to the assigned spots Alex raises her left arm, pointer finger skyward. Still dancing, and with Mitchie's face captured between her two hands she shakes her head 'no'.

It is a silent message that, although it is understood, needn't been given because Mitchie seconds Alex wholeheartedly. She is enjoying herself way too much to split away from her friend at this time. The important facet is that the audience doesn't mind at all, the cheers never ending.

What the audience doesn't know is that she has given a specific signal to the band and stagehands. Rick and Michael, the players on the synths and responsible for all the music and sound effects compensate for the lapse in timing after having recognized the hand gesture. With amazing resolve, skill and precision both, with nothing but a subtle glance and nod between the two continue the track of slow paced music, allowing the girls to cater to the crowd's wishes.

A full additional minute passes before the girls allow the song to continue on. Despite the delay, no one seems to mind. Especially not HP, he has always encouraged spontaneity, even becoming known for incorporating it into his concerts.

The music switches pace again just as HP's voice emerges.

_Close to the edge! _

Six hard, distinct beats sound in quick succession and upon the last HP appears from the black curtains in the back. Yellow and white pyrotechnics announce his reemergence with force. Fireworks match the rhythm perfectly, exploding as dazzling flowers of fire above the stage. Like a coordinated team of sports players Mitchie and Alex assist, syncing their bodies with the driving keyboards. Each strikes a unique pose and on the sixth another wave of flames appears in front of their faces.

The formerly slow pacing disappears in a matter of seconds. The transition is visceral; ears and eyes assailed by hard, fast melodies. Lasers and spotlights flicker, play and come together in organized chaos. At the center of all this madness one voice blends everything together.

_If you love me or hate me_

_I don't give a damn!_

Where previously everything is improve, devised on the spot by imagination alone. The girls revert to the heavily practiced choreography. When able a spin, punch, or hair flip is added.

_If you really think your ready_

_Let me see your hands!_

HP raps into the microphone. Guiding the audience in moving their arms back and forth once more.

_Everybody knows_

_We've got a floorfiller_

Lyrics once again find purchase within two impressionable, female minds searching for reason and logic. Mitchie twirls about with style. The feelings racing through her head are intense; emotions are on fire, ignited by the passion for music and ever-growing appreciation for her talented friend just across the stage.

In Mitchie's life music has always been important. She has always been able find the perfect words, expressions and emotions in the melodies that she writes. This time, she is not writing them, she is living them. It is like knowing a foreign language without comprehension for the nuisances, the slang, and the most minor of pieces of knowledge that sets one apart from a textbook or robotic drone.

She recognizes the magnificence of the music but now appreciates the heartfelt emotions that the lyrics are capable of bringing to the surface. Her mind and heart rejoice, they sing and chant along to HP in pure glee. One name appears over and over in the chorus, squeezed between the lines by her spirit and heart, having found and identified its mate: Alex.

_I'm on the mic driller!_

_Here's the bass killer!_

Being in the spotlight without a care in her head is the most valuable thing in the world to Alex at this moment. She may not be singing right now but she doesn't need too. She knows that Mitchie and she are both on the big screens. She knows that they have captivated everyone in the arena. HP, Rob and Michael maybe the main attractions but they have stolen the show. Not by some form of bribery, blackmail or coercion but by simply being themselves; actions proving to truly being more powerful then the sword.

More importantly then all of this, Alex is happy. She is truly and completely thrilled. This is a celebration of music, showcasing her talents, and all with her best friend. She doesn't care if Mark comes along and strikes her down at this very moment because everything has changed. Selena the puppet is no more. Instead Selena and Alex are one.

_Yeah!_

HP disappears in a cloud of artificial fog, having stepped on another concealed elevator, quickly whisking him away as the spotlights and song slow again. Another click and the cascade of yellow-white sparks rain down. Little droplets of fire fall in streams that perfectly replicate a waterfall. The jets of golden light rain down to generate a mood of tranquility.

_Full of light_

This time it is Mitchie's turn to sing the chorus and her mystical voice, similar to Alexs' yet so different reaches deep into all those assembled. She cannot remember a time when she has ever been so enthralled or joyous

_From distant flame_

In a flash Alex and Mitchie's eyes meet in a stare that connects the soul. With no need rush the two sirens move together.

_There's sunlight fading_

Dancing together becomes a test. Breath is caught in throats, heartbeats quicken, palms sweat. Alex wraps both arms around Mitchie, ushering the other singer into a hug. LCDs above capture Mitchie's magnificent smile, the crowd yelling in positive reception. This only increases in volume as Mitchie deviously sings, lips moving just short of Alex's ear.

_Autumn leaves in the rain_

Then Alex's voice meets Mitchie's for the last line; locked together the girls move and sing as one. Somehow able to maintain their embrace as their bodies gently sway, gyrate and rub together. Alex even going so far as to balance on foot as the other comes up and around Mitchie's hip and back.

_If you call I will be there_

The chorus is powerful, a crescendo of emotions that leaves everyone breathless. Two pairs of brown eyes meet once again. Music, audience, spotlights, everyone fades from existence; all that matters is within liquid crystal pupils.

A silent promise, a guarantee of sincerity, in the fraction of a second everything has changed.

Hands not their own touch the face in front of them. To everyone assembled it is part of the routine that helps to scream incredible and sexy. To both girls however, the action is brought about by love and desire_._

Once again Rob and Michael have no choice but to compensate again for the girls. There is no signal but neither cares. Being so close to the singers, and with families of their own; the show that just happened in front of them is something that neither will ever forget. Mitchie and Alex have made the statement of friendship, family, devotion, and loyalty, philosophical concepts at best, and turned them into something tangible. Something so profound that no one may ever misunderstand what those ideals mean or what one feels about the other.

Sheer magnitude and force of emotions powered by the two girls creates an atmosphere on stage on like any other. HPs dramatic entrance seemingly that much more spectacular. The jets of flames appearing that much brighter, the heat rising noticeably again.

_Close to the edge! _

HP yells, green explosions rocking the stage from top to bottom just in time for the fire to dissipate.

_Watch how we mix it up!_

A lightning bolt may as well have hit the arena because the mood of Madison Square Gardens shifts once more. Mitchie and Alex set the theme of the song and now everyone uses the accumulated, enigmatic energy the pair has created to show their appreciations.

_Jigga! Jiaa!_

Fireworks once again rocket from the sides of the stage, as the audience focuses not on HP and the lyrics but the two girls. While unable to replicate the specific steps or maneuvers countless bodies move the same limbs, sway the same way; flick their heads to the side.

_Jigga! Jigga!_

HP completes the verse in what seems like no time at all and once again, for the last occasion, it is Mitchie and Alex's turn to dominant the stage.

Unlike before though, HP does not go away.

_Full of light… _Unlike before though, not one but together they sing. Their blended voices mystifying those assembled. They act like magicians, enchanting everyone below underneath their spells of aptitude, exquisiteness, charm.

Instead of dancing like seductresses the pair are singing in joint harmony. HP stands between the two, letting them resonate Madison Square Gardens with a vocal routine that has no equal. He, like his band mates does not miss the glances, the gestures between the two, and the look of long lost lovers.

Due to being on stage in the middle of a performance he cannot talk or act as if he knows any better, but inwardly he is smiling. _After a concert like tonight those two deserve each other. I hope they realize how special and how much potential they have in this industry! _

Once again the timing is incredible. The girls finishing they're set just in time for HP to resume rapping again.

_Ain't never been a trouble maker!_

Time seems to stand still. The world appears in slow motion, being viewed from afar. Everything is gone and yet everything is still there. Everything that matters is the stage, the lyrics and the music.

_Just finish what you start!_

An already phenomenal performance is elevated. How that is possible is beyond comprehension yet Mitchie and Alex are able to do so by being only themselves. Back to dancing again they somehow also are able to guide the spectators into participating too. Soon every person in the crowd is jumping up and down, arms raised in a fist pump salute to the music.

_By ripping you apart!_

HP's powerful lyrics resonate deep within skulls filled with garbage propaganda of inferiority. For Mitchie, the new comer, she isn't nearly as affected by this philosophy having just started to live her dreams. She does, nonetheless, view the forceful, almost violent flood of ideas bubble forth Alex's mind. The passion, the joy, the indisputable determination surfaces and then explodes forth in a rush of energy that is every bit the equal of the pyrotechnics jetting off the stage. Where once a cloud of darkness and woe lingers, Alex is a ray of positive hope and shining independence.

_I'm not a faker!_

In an action that appears as seamless as a routine practiced a million times over the girls look at each other. The distance across the stage does not matter. Nor does the lighting because like a mirror both see their soul; forever etched in the others expression.

_I feel like a great white shark!_

It may require an enormous amount of force for a massive freight train to get up to speed but once it takes another enormous force to make it stop. Mark, family, doubt, all of those red signals along the tracks no longer matter; they may as well have been green from the beginning.

_Yeah!_

All of this intensity slams into Alex and Mitchie like a hurricane, a whirlwind of feelings that ebb, escalate, evading all manner of negativity, finding everything that represents enjoyment.

_Ring me up!_

Through it all HP belts out line after line. He is a puppet master on the stage, demanding respect, controlling everyone, dancers and instruments alike.

_Skip to the dip now!_

But not this night; no, not this night because he has been usurped in a way that is unexpected and far more profound then any sword may possibly hope to become.

Though, all things must come to an end. And in a tribute to the start of the song the ending incorporates the same series of hard beats. Six times it sounds.

_What we say!_

Six times pyrotechnics launch. Fireworks in different positions around the stage works shoot rockets that whistle loudly before exploding in red, white, blue, green, and white. The last, yellow forming not the anticipated pattern but a smiley face. Three enormous yellow, simple faces emblazed in fire for a few seconds before dissipating.

Bellows from the crowd meet the performers as hands clap and feet stomp their approval at the fireworks that suddenly seem more fitting for a display on the fourth of July.

_Jigga Jigga!_

Six times Mitchie and Alex pose. Alex on HP's left, Mitchie on his right. Hands appear on hips. A body turns slightly, face moving in the opposition direction, shoulders steel and chests thrust out provocatively towards the audience. On the last note of the synth HP stares forward as Alex and Mitchie become reflections of each other. Staring once more at each other, hair moving in front of faces at the rapidity of movement, hair cast gently aloft.

_Alright!_

HP has his arms around both their shoulders in a protective manner as he holds up the microphone to his mouth.

_Aaarrraarrrghhh!_

Alex and Mitchie drop to the floor in a riot of glittering curls, heads bowed inwards towards HP. Spotlights, lasers, flames and explosions shake the stage to the foundations again.

HP ever the unpredictable one instead of ending the concert like scheduled raises a finger. The music never stops only the harmony changes.

Cheers and yells fill the arena as everyone fathoms an encore is about to begin.

HP though isn't finished and touches both girls on the shoulder gesturing for them to stand.

A wholly unique electronic piece starts to play. Lasers playing in artificial fog that seems to be everywhere, a trio of spotlights turns on as well. Mitchie finds herself bathed blue light, Alex red and in the middle is HP, surrounded by purple.

"Posse! We wanna hear a big sound from you to these outstanding girls!" HP shouts as the music becomes more dramatic. "Let's hear it for Mitchie!" Boisterous clapping meets the announcement. Mitchie is taken completely by surprise and is even more shocked to find herself being hugged by HP.

All too suddenly HP moves away. "Alright crew! And another big sound for Alex!" The ovation only grows louder as Alex receives a hug too, then Mitchie is brought into the embrace once again. HP is now in the middle of the two singers. "Yeeaahh!"

The last words either girl hears as they smile dreamily and skip off the stage is HP's voice to them and them only. "Anytime, anywhere, anyplace."

Out of the public spotlights they stay silent as Madison Square Gardens dances to the music. Unlike just minutes before both are silent. They move like ninjas, quiet and at peace with not only their surroundings but also each other. Neither even realizes that their hands are clasped together as they move through another door. After it closes behind them the noise from beyond is all but gone.

Mitchie stops walking to take her headset off, a sigh escaping her lips as her hand leaves that of her friend's. Apparently the feeling is mutual because her friend has already done so. Now that Alex is free of the microphone greedily grabs a bottle of water from a self, handing one to Mitchie before opening the plastic container. Before Mitchie is able to say thanks, much less make a comment Alex is twisting off the top and is drinking the liquid.

Instantly alarm bells go off in Mitchie's head. _She is tilting that bottle too far back! _"Alex I wouldn't-"

Too late! Alex starts to cough and sputter as the greater amount of half of the bottle overflows into her mouth, over her lips and chin and on to her shirt.

The sight is too much and Mitchie laughs, earning herself a glare from her now very irritated, very thirsty friend. The urge to comment is overwhelming and always the one to tease gives in. "You're all wet!" she says while poking Alex on the tip of the nose.

Though the coughing fit has ebbed off Alex is still slightly hunched over, trying to rid the last vestiges of liquid from places it really, _really_ shouldn't be. "Yes, I'm all wet. I bet that makes you happy doesn't it." That spot being namely her lungs.

Alex has her answer when Mitchie smiles before drinking her own water. _Well_…_ could be worse. At least she isn't laughing at you…AGAIN!_ "Be careful Mitchie or what is left in this bottle is going over your head."

"Really? Cause that would be awesome!" Mitchie eagerly explains much to Alex's disappointment. "Being under those spotlights is like baking under the sun. At least then I might be-"

She never is given the opportunity to finish her sentence because of the very cold liquid being emptied over her head. Alex's laughter filling her now waterlogged ears.

"A _little_ warning next _time_ would be _nice!_" Mitchie shrieks having been taken completely by the surprise attack.

"I'll think," Alex pausing in-between her giggles, "about it.

Mitchie stands with her hands on her hips, clearly not pleased about her friend's response. "Right, like I believe that."

"Good. You totally shouldn't!" That is the last thing Alex says before taking off down the hallway. She has no intention of allowing Mitchie the devise another prank at her expense.

"Alex!" Mitchie races after the other girl, it being a miracle that neither trips nor falls in the rather large duel puddles on the floor. "Get your cute ass back here!"

_Cute ass_? Alex starts laughing again making her escape much more difficult as the muscles in her legs compete with the urge to chuckle for life-giving oxygen.

The footsteps thundering behind her however, give her plenty of incentive on why not to stop. Mainly that if she does bring to an end this pursuit then all the teasing games will cease. Something that, regardless of al the protests, is not keen on having happen.

"When I get you Alex you're _all _mine!" Mitchie declares loudly, voice echoing off the bare hallways.

"I'm all yours or just my ass?" This thought causes another round of laughter to course through Alex and forces her to slow down again.

The last remark is all Mitchie needs to propel her feet forward even faster. Between that and Alex doing just the opposite it won't take very long for her close the lead. "Next thing you're going to say is that I'm anally fixated aren't you?" she growls.

When the words 'anal' and 'fixated' reach Alex's ear that is the last straw, she is compelled to stop. Or pass out because of the hysterics that have her gasping for breath.

What Mitchie doesn't realize is that Alex's definition and the actual definition is two very separate entities.

Where Mitchie's usage is the 'correct' form, in other words Alex being very focused and interested in something; namely her ass. To the contrary, Alex's mind uses the root words to come up with a meaning. In this case putting together 'anal' with 'fix', therefore implying that something is wrong with her friend's lovely shaped behind.

The most terrible of thoughts race happily through Alex's head causing her to lean desperately against the wall as body trembling quakes of hysteria escape. The poor girl's sides ache horribly and any thought of evading Mitchie has long since gone away. Now her only concern is making the awful giggles go away.

After rounding a corner Mitchie indeed does catch up to her cackling friend. Wide-eyed she is astounded to see Alex sitting on the floor, one hand on her stomach, the other her side, red faced and tears pouring down both cheeks. It is very clear to Mitchie that Alex is truly on her way laughing herself into insanity. The sight has her utterly dumbfounded and Alex's beautiful voice expressing its joviality is too much. The past few moments and conversations race forth in a manner that doesn't take long for her to join in, leaning too against the wall in complete hysteria.

Alex is the first to speak, eyes glued to the three-fourths filled bottle. "Water?" she croaks, throat and mouth dry from singing then laughing.

"Here." Mitchie says before unscrewing the cap and giving Alex the water.

Lifting her head up Alex, being much more cautious, takes her time having no desire to drown a second time. Now content and feeling much better Alex goes back to making a pillow out of Mitchie's shoulder. Handing the rest to Mitchie who finishes the remainder with a sigh of her own.

"I can't believe you made me race you!" Mitchie starts, shifting slightly so that her legs are now straight out in front of her, rather then previously being Indian style.

"I know!" Alex gleefully says from Mitchie's shoulder. Comfortable and happy the girl has no desire whatsoever to move from her current spot. "Look on the bright side I didn't race you in high heels!"

"Thank god for small mercies." Mitchie adds, looking up at the ceiling for dramatic effect. "Had you done that I can safely say you wouldn't be where you are now."

The strange statement causes Alex off guard and she turns her to look up at her fellow singer. "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's see." Mitchie begins to count off on each finger as she makes a point. "We've already established that you like to race. We've already discovered that you like to cheat."

"I do-" A finger is pressed to Alex's lips by the other girl stops the talking abruptly.

"Quiet you. Interrupting isn't polite." No trace of hostility present in Mitchie's voice as she uses that same finger to tap Alex on the nose again. "And lastly, I've discovered that I love seeing you laugh yourself silly," another tap on the nose. "My silly singer."

"I'm starting to think that you are nose-ally fixated." Alex exclaims having no idea of what she is really uttering.

Mitchie, on the other hand, does and the laughter resumes. "I can't believe," the chucking stops her from talking for a moment. "I can't believe you said that!"

Alex, not understanding what is so puzzling about the phrase feels like she is being insulted. "What do you mean? You _are_ nose-ally fixated!"

Somehow Mitchie is able to keep her self-control, masking the amusement that so desperately wants to come out by smiling brightly at her friend. "I've reached a conclusion!" she without warning announces while raising her arm, finger up to the ceiling in a dramatic fashion.

Suspicion laced between each word Alex takes a chance in responding. "And that is?"

"That you my silly singer are officially crazy."

"That's it?"

"Yes. That's it."

"Oh." Alex says suddenly bored. _I could_ have told you _that!_ In disbelief at Mitchie having stated the incredibly obvious she shakes her head.

When she moves her head Mitchie shivers as the skin meets skin for a second, and as suddenly as the warmth is there it is gone. If Alex notices she offers no indication. "Sounds like you get that a lot."

More movement as Alex shrugs against Mitchie's body. "I guess. I mean, when you live with two brothers you tend to get used to it. Although, more often the insanity plea was given to Max, he well and truly fits the bill."

"Makes sense." The sentence isn't a statement from the heart. No, the response is derived from a mind that is filled with distractions. Mainly that of a certain star has merrily acquisitioned her shoulder for the purpose of a pillow. Caught up in her own thoughts Mitchie brings an arm around the other girl, pulling her closer while resting her own head against the top of Alex's. Soft hair dancing around the sensitive skin of her ears and cheek. Silence is golden and it allows Mitchie to gather her thoughts, to swallow down the nervous butterflies to start the conversation she has been dreading the most.

"Alex?" Mitchie's voice is eerily calm, thought-provoking; unlike the pitched vivaciousness it was a few moments ago. This attracts the other girl's attention greatly, dark brown eyes looking up as best as they can given the position. "Tonight," the voice falters for a second, she cursing inwards at the butterflies making her stomach pitter-patter. "Tonight was amazing. I've had plenty of dreams of doing what we just did but never imagined that they would ever come true. I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't have too." With great care Alex moves upright so that they are face to face, the emotion in her friends voice is too immense. Reassuringly she hugs Mitchie from whom anxiety is leaking through every pore. For Alex it is as if time is standing still and the world stops. Everything that mattered and only matters is within the circle of arms.

Mitchie calms down the minute Alex makes contact. No longer feeling like the world is going to end dark brown eyes meet. "No. I do. I don't understand any of this."

This time Alex sighs but not from agitation. It is more because she realizes that if this conversation is to continue then Mitchie will start to over think and over analyze everything, driving Alex and her crazy in the process. "You're not supposed to understand any of this. This was about us having an amazing night doing what we love and do best together."

Mitchie opens her mouth to speak but is amused to find a finger at her lips. A move that causes her to smile since Alex has skillfully utilized her own technique. "I can tell you aren't going to drop this are you?"

Since Alex never removed the finger a still smiling Mitchie shakes her head. She might be smiling but the finger is preventing her from speaking. With that in mind Mitchie kisses the tip before taking Alex's wrist and pulling it away just slightly. "Please? This is important to me." Tension is still in her voice. "If you won't let me thank you can you at least explain everything? Giving a gift is one thing. Giving tickets to a concert is another, but what you did. What you did is… incredible. It is so far above and beyond anything I ever, _ever_ expected someone to do for me. I want to understand."

Trepidation flashes into Alex's eyes. The last thing she wants is for Mitchie to be upset. Domineeringly she grasps Mitchie's hands into her own again, running a finger over the back of each hand in comfort. The subtle gesture is exactly what the other girl needs. Nonetheless, she isn't the only one who finds solace in the soft warmth, both girls' heart cuddle happily with the strong, serene affection being created between the two.

More importantly is that Alex is given the encouragement needed to fully explain the motives and intentions behind everything. "You're right Mitchie. Tonight wasn't just for you. A big part of it was to remind myself of the things that I love. Music, singing, performing, the fans of course; for a long time I thought that these were all things that I had lost my connection with. I felt alone, scared and terrified that I would never be anything more then Selena the singer."

Quietly Mitchie takes all of this in, forehead crinkling cutely in contemplation. "I can understand that I suppose, but what made everything change?"

"I'm going to sound like I'm in a soap opera because probably everyone says the same thing," Alex's speech suddenly speeding up due to her nervousness. The urge to continue overcoming any lingering doubt as she recalls the way her skin melts every time they touch. She remembers gazing upon Mitchie's beautiful face as the spotlights gyrate, feeling like a lost little puppy that so eagerly wants to kiss its owner but is just out of reach.

"You did Mitchie. All of this is because of you."

Mitchie's eyes widen in surprise. "Me?" The response leaves her stunned down to her very core. Despite whatever her mouth may question to the contrary, she knows from the sincerity and sheer emotion in Alex's voice that every word is true. "Me…? I didn't…"

"That's just it. You didn't do anything. You were… are yourself. I couldn't pretend to be someone else around you. I didn't have to be the perfect singer slave that Mark wanted." Alex says. "You wouldn't let me. I found my love of music and friends again through you. Tonight was about proving to myself that I wasn't wrong. That tonight was something special and that I wasn't lying to myself."

"Lying about what?" Mitchie quietly asks not sure she wants to know the answer, head bowed slightly in consideration.

"That I love you, M. That you aren't just a friend to me and haven't been for some time now." Alex doesn't know when she finds herself in Mitchie's arms, being squeezed tightly enough that she swears a rib or two are going to break, but she does and it is glorious. Her heart leaps with bliss as she grips the other girl desperately.

Those three words cause Mitchie's to give in to her feelings; an expression that mirrors all of the sentiment and intensity that is contained within the hug. "Well! It's about damn time!" Her face scrunches up in an expression of utter delight and fulfillment. "I love you too, my silly singer!"

With a heartbeat like thunder in her ears Mitchie can withstand the overwhelming desire that has been controlled for days on end for no longer. From the moment Alex begins wailing away on the drums. To being entranced by the way the lights and pyrotechnics play off skin made moist by sweat, to sliding sensuously together during the last song; tonight has been a hurricane. Tonight is the storm that rips apart any inhibitions Mitchie has. No longer will she deny herself to the person she wants and loves the most.

Tiling her head to the side, a hand on Alex's cheek ushering her forward slightly, the pair kiss. The softest of skin meets in a glorious celebration of all that is good and wonderful.

Alex presses herself closer to Mitchie, a hand on the back of her head as she begins to suck on the other girl's lip, sending pure liquid heat throughout the other girl's body.

It just felt right, and infinitely better when Mitchie returns the favor. Alex is barely able to suppress the moan as the feelings intensify. Two hearts shouting in elation in announcing a union that is so magical it is unthinkable to ever have conceived them to be apart.

When Mitchie pulls away after a few long moments Alex is left out of breathe, astonished. She pulls back to look Mitchie in the eyes deeply, one burning question on the tip of her tongue. "What do you mean 'about damn time?'"

"Isn't it obvious by now?" exclaims a brilliantly smiling Mitchie. "I love you too! You big dummy! I've been waiting for this for _days!_ Since I couldn't figure out whether you liked me or not I was waiting for the right time to make a move!"

Head reeling, and unable to accept reality as true Alex goes back again. _Days?_ The single thought of astonishment disappears into pure joy as her mouth meets Mitchie's once again. Tongues dance in a contest that sees only victors. Mitchie is the first to come up for air and much to the dismay of her partner, stops the kiss.

For Alex the intensity incredible and her heart is beating like a drum, blood thundering in her ears. Mitchie isn't left unscathed either. Her eyes are impassioned; brown now a dark hue, burning with need.

Both girls use the pause to gather their thoughts. Alex is the first gather her wits enough to speak. "I take it that us being 'friends' isn't going to work anymore is it?"

Mitchie's chest shook from deep laughs. Happily and with a sigh of content she returns to nuzzling Alex's neck. "I agree."

The other singer inhales deeply trying to convince herself that she is ready for this step. A certain annoying voice in the back of her head screaming that this is wrong; that being with Mitchie would only lead to unfortunate consequences. On the other hand, her desires were having none of it. Spawned from yearning she remembers the way Mitchie's eyes turned into a rich brown, burning with passion. She has memorized the expression and is determined to see it, to make it happen over and over again.

"Does this mean we're girlfriends?"

"I hope so." teases Mitchie. "If we aren't, I promise not to stop tormenting you at every opportunity."

Alex shakes her head in disbelief. "You're impossible M. Why do I get the feeling that you aren't going to stop because you think it's now your solemn duty to keep me on my toes?

"You said it Lex! Not me!" says Mitchie. "Besides, you love it." Smirking while poking Alex in the stomach.

"You can't prove a thing!" the singer laughs before leaning for another kiss. "And for the record, no. I don't love it. I love you." Whispering one word before velvety lips meet her own. "Girlfriend."

* * *

Axel Turner leans back in his expensive leather chair. The young woman in front of the desk sits contentedly. Turner, in a rare break from tradition has declined to wear Levi jeans – first edition of course – and instead is wearing a dark black suit and dress shoes, sans the tie. He hates those thin decorative pieces of material and avoids wearing them at all costs.

The woman on the other hand wears a comfortable skirt with black leggings. The sleeves of a blue t-shirt are visible past the brown leather of a vest. Both accent her Asian features and medium hue brown hair. The style of cut is one that leaves half the front longer then the other, while the rest is trimmed to end just above the neckline. Blonde highlights in conjunction with fingerless gloves speak volumes about her personality; that she is a rocker, and she cares about her character. So much so that even potentially placing a future job in question by wearing informal rather than formal clothing.

Axel, unlike his compatriot Mark, is not nearly so concerned about the formalities regarding appearance. In his mind a business is a business. Natural selection as determined by skill will ultimately dictate what and whom are successful rather then what someone wears in his presence. Of course, exceptions do exist. If this were a board meeting with CEO's then of course dressing in street clothes would be a problem.

"I must say that I am impressed by your performance. I have hundreds of perspective clients each and every day scrambling to break down my office door. Yet," he pauses, glancing up and leaning forward a little in the chair as if to intimidate. "Here you are. A pretty girl who never even tried to become part of my company now may have the opportunity of a lifetime."

Axel is legitimately interested in this newest talent but must ensure that she is a good match; not doing so would be bad for business.

If the woman has any qualms about the line of questioning she does not demonstrate any lack of confidence. For someone as skilled at reading body language and determining weaknesses, Axel is finding it very hard to get any sense at all about her. A rare person, and even rarer act to follow; he almost smiles. Negotiating is like a great game of poker. You must be aware of the perfect time to bet, bluff or bail out. Even if she is not aware of the stakes Axel is still able to appreciate the game. As a result he is enjoying himself immensely.

Time for a trick question and one that nine out of ten fail. "So tell me," he looks down at a sheet of paper in front of him to double check the name. "Stella. What makes you believe you are a good match for my company?"

The brunette gives Axel a smile that would melt the ice off the sides of a freezer. Unfortunately he is not impressed. That doesn't stop her and she presses forward with a dangerously risky response.

"Before I answer Mr. Turner please call me Stevie. Stella is my stage name." Axel nods in agreement as she continues. "I think that is a question that is best answered by you Mr. Turner. Let me elaborate. I am sitting in front of you after you saw me perform. While it is true I have heard of your organization, being offered a contract was quite a surprise. A most welcome one to be sure, but that piece of paper is an extra. Something I would love to have, not a necessity."

The smile on her face turns predatory and now it is her turn to lean forward. She uncrosses her legs as she does so, before placing both feet together flat on the floor, body language perfect in stating that every syllable is absolutely, dead-set serious. "So, as you may see Mr. Turner, the way I see it, the ball is in my court rather then yours. I have something of value to offer you and your business. To me the fact that you have other people wanting to join you doesn't matter. All that I am concerned with is what you are able to do for _me_."

The office is strangely quiet as Axel takes in the words that were just said. The girl _is_ special. Saying something like that is a great way to end up with a botched interview, or worse. Unlike many of his peers however, Axel admires courage and confidence.

_Perhaps I underestimated this one. Nevertheless, she is right. I have everything to risk and she has nothing to lose._ To factually list out each negotiating point line-by-line takes guts. Most importantly, she is right.

"Fair enough my dear. You are correct. I want to represent you. I want to do so a great deal. Let me show you something." With a few taps of the keyboard an image appears on the large, wall mounted display.

Instantly the face of Selena graces the screen as a portion of the performance – the same in which Mitchie debuts - is played back. Axel allows the clip to play for a minute with sound before turning the volume down to just above mute. "Do you know her?" He gestures to the screen, the camera zooming in on Selena's face.

"Of course! That is Selena Gomez." _Why does it feel like I've seen her before? _Although she frantically searches her brain nothing comes to fruition. Although Stevie may have known Alex when they went to school together, it is very clear that she doesn't recognize the singer now. Despite this, she cannot stop the feelings of acquaintance ebbing from the screen.

_Why does she seem so familiar? _She shoves away he inklings and decides to deal with them later. "Why? Is she my competition?"

Axel ignores the question and hits a button. This time a clip of Mitchie singing appears. "And her?"

"I can't say I do. I'm sorry."

"I wasn't expecting you too. She recently started working under Selena. Anyways, those details do not matter. I can't assign you to that tour even though I'd like too since I am obligated to receive permission from my business partner. In the meantime, you are on the next flight to New York. I'll meet with you on the plane to go over the details. Oh, and Stevie. Make sure that your band mate Olivia is with you. For now, here is your temporary contract. Typical non-disclosure stuff, everything else may be settled later."

She smiles brightly at the news and takes the offered pen, signing her name quickly on the dotted line having already read a copy of the contract the night before. "Thank you Mr. Turner! I'm excited, but may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Olivia is another stage name, would you please refer to the other singer as Juliette?"

Axel leans back in his chair again, interlacing his fingers in contemplation. "I see. Well, no matter. Make sure she is on that plane. I have something special in mind for you two."

Stevie stands happily. She takes the two boarding passes from Axel before shaking his proffered hand. "I can't wait!"

* * *

**NOTE: Many of you may have a question as to why Stevie doesn't recognize Alex. This was deliberate and will be answered soon. =) If you have ideas for this story or the prequels I'd love to hear them. Please drop a review or PM. I was THRILLED to see how many reviewed last time so keep it up! **

**Oh yeah… the next update when done will likely be the largest ever on this story… REVIEW and make me smile!**


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